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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118170">Grade A</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_abounding_sentiment/pseuds/an_abounding_sentiment'>an_abounding_sentiment</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Crush, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking, no beta we die like the kuragins in w&amp;p, tagged everyone in advance, upcoming angst, you guys finally get jock marya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:41:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118170</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_abounding_sentiment/pseuds/an_abounding_sentiment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A history teacher has no clue what she's starting when pairing Helene and Marya up for tutoring. There are some critical misunderstandings along the way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anatole Vasilyevich Kuragin/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova, Marya Dmitryevna Akhrosimova/Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is my fun intro chapter (it isn't actually that fun, but you learn what ya need to know.) I'm going to try and actually update this on a normal time schedule so we'll see how that pans out.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You haven't been doing your homework," Helene simply stared up at her teacher, blinking slowly. When they didn't elaborate, Helene finally spoke up.</p><p><br/>"Yeah...?" Holding her after class to state a well known fact seemed less than productive, but the brunette held her tongue: a respect for authority was the one thing to get her this far.</p><p><br/>"Your grades are suffering, Helene," Again, the sophomore knew this already, leaning back against the classroom desk with a sigh.</p><p><br/>"Unfortunately," Mrs. M glared slightly at her student, more specifically her nonplussed reaction.</p><p><br/>"If you handed in anything, it would make things easier. I can't help you if you don't try," Helene frowned; she didn't expect help. And for a moment she was almost offended her teacher thought she needed any.</p><p><br/>"I have a busy schedule," She explained vaguely.</p><p><br/>"You don't have even an hour of free time per day?" Mrs. M asked incredulously, eyes narrowed.</p><p><br/>Helene shrugged, "Sorry,"</p><p><br/>"Alright, Helene," Her teacher evidently was not the slightest bit convinced but relented. Ah, the benefits of playing teacher's favorite. "There is a student I know who is around during lunch in the honors room and has a very good grasp on time management and the history topics we are currently covering in class. I can set her up to meet with you during-"</p><p><br/>"Lunch is kind of my time," Helene retorted, scowling. It was a stronger statement than any teacher was used to out of her, but if the teacher noticed, she didn't act like it. It was a miracle the proposal had gotten this far with the reputation her and the her usual company had. As pleasant as Helene could be in class, her influences were a bit less than promising. </p><p><br/>"Three times a week at least, then," The brunettes attitude made a small appearance in the rolling of her eyes. Although, in the end, she gave a nod and glanced down at her shoes as she scuffed them against tile floors. "Do you know Marya Dmitrievna?"</p><p><br/>Helene's face went momentarily blank. "Marya Dmitrievna," She echoed. Oh, she knew Marya. It was quite difficult to forget your ex's best friend, really.</p><p><br/>"Soo you...?"</p><p><br/>"We have a class together," Helene realized too late that based on how bright Mrs.M's expression got, she probably should have said just about anything else.</p><p><br/>"What class?" It was too late to go back.</p><p><br/>"Study hall," Helene muttered, regret already crossing all of her features. Still, she continued quickly, "We, uh, we don't talk. Ever. It's not like-"</p><p><br/>"So then you two will meet once a week in lunch and then each study hall," The history teacher didn't even give Helene a chance to interject. While not a foreign concept to the girl, that didn't mean Helene enjoyed it, slowly crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll reach out to her and confirm!"</p><p><br/>Helene would rather get a fork stabbed into her foot and deal with that discomfort than say yes. Dealing with a girl who probably hated her every bit of existence was not particularly high on her list. Nonetheless, she forced a smile, speaking through gritted teeth. "Is that all?"</p><p><br/>"Oh, wait," Helene took a breath. "You forgot your hall pass!"</p><p><br/>----------------------------------------------------------------</p><p><br/>"You know Helene, don't you?" Marya had her books hugged to her chest as she turned to Pierre. The far more quiet of the two stared back at her in bewilderment.</p><p><br/>"I dated her, Marya," Pierre declared flatly, pushing his glasses back up his nose. A year long relationship felt like something Marya would remember, which could only mean one thing: "Why are you stressing about <em>Helene</em>?" The pair hadn't been dating for quite some time: long enough the rumors slowed to very occasional whispers. It was something Pierre still bristled away from, yet Helene learned to take over the years.</p><p><br/>"Mrs.M said I can get my honor roll credit by tutoring her," Marya explained stiffly, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "What do you think?"</p><p><br/>"What do you mean? Are you asking if she's smart? Because with her that is very subject by subj-"</p><p><br/>"I'm asking if you'd be comfortable with that," Pierre's brows knitted together, head tilting as they continued down the hall. It seemed to hit him what she was implying suddenly,  face falling.<br/><br/></p><p>"I've told you they were just rumors," He'd said those words to her in multiple occasions, including ones where Marya had explicitly offered to murder her-which was kind, but always deemed unnecessary. Pierre stuck to the declaration they had no ill will, despite never being willing to disclose why specifically they broke up. Marya could think of a few reasons based off the minimal interactions she'd seen between them. That being said, the redhead knew there was more to the story beyond a relationship broken before it even started. "You can't dislike her already, " Pierre told her with a sigh.</p><p><br/>"I don't," That was the truth. It took some convincing over the weeks they'd been apart, but Marya did come out of it believing Helene hadn't done anything wrong. Pierre's words it was personal to Helene and not his place to tell stood. That didn't mean Pierre would want to see her in the honors room during lunch.</p><p><br/>"Then do whatever helps you," He directed her earnestly without any bitterness in his voice.</p><p><br/>"Thank you," She told him, reciprocating his closed mouth smile. It didn't take long for her to pull out her phone and type up an email accepting the tutoring hours. "Plus, it means we still have lunch free mostly,"</p><p><br/>Marya quite enjoyed her time in the honor roll, the impressive addition to her college applications in the upcoming years aside. Maintaining the grades for it was not at all difficult given how much time she put towards her academics regardless. And the requirement of being a tutor was unexpectedly pleasant. Her friends (or, well, most of them) were members already, meaning most of her hours were taken up in the lunch time block with her friends inside the honors room heavily favored by Sonya, Mary, and Pierre. Given students often wouldn't come unless it was last second paper editing, it as well have been the groups private lunch room. Also, Marya had no problem coming to Helene's aid, because she would always welcome the chance to keep busy without having to focus on her own personal expectations and grades with open arms.</p><p><br/>Marya expected a small push-pull with Helene based on the wording of the history teacher's email; she did not expect what she got when study hall rolled around. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Water...?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya and Helene's tutoring session involves everything but the homework-doing that was supposed to happen.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>'Bright, But Needs Guidance' </em>
</p>
<p>Those were the words used by Mrs.M. Marya, however, did not expect that to apply to guidance as to what what kinds of things you can drink while inside the school. </p>
<p>Now, the redhead had been to parties. And Helene was always wherever the party was. Marya had seen Helene drunk, and while she wasn't that, she'd seen Helene sober, too. And the second the girl sat down next to Marya, the question left her lips. </p>
<p>"Are you drinking?"</p>
<p>"Takes one to know one," And if that wasn't the most tipsy retort Helene could've given, she didn't know what was. </p>
<p>Marya didn't speak for a couple of moments, because really: what was she supposed to say? Blue eyes scrutinized every part of the girl's demeanor, scowl firmly placed on her lips. "Are you going to take your notebook out, or just stare at me?" Is what she came up with. Fortunately it was enough to snap the girl back into the objective of the meeting, even if Marya found it may have been doomed from the start. Helene gave a wordless pout, bending down into the large purse and rustling through its materials. </p>
<p>By the time she looked up and flopped the notebook on the table dramatically--and loud enough a good amount of the students at neighboring tables turned their heads-- there was a water bottle slid in front of her. The redhead had narrowed eyes flickering between the student and the water bottle. "I told you, I am <em>not-</em>I am totally sober. C'mon," She insisted, as if the fact she damn near screeched the word 'not' wouldn't have given her away. "I like water, though, so..." Marya was sure the reasons her and Pierre broke up were abundant now. </p>
<p>Helene took the smallest sip of the water. Her eyes were glued on Marya the entire time, watching and waiting for her expression to change to one of satisfaction so she could put the bottle down. Helene's goal, above all, was to simply keep the sobriety away as long as possible. There was no part of her being that wanted to be with it enough to confirm her suspicions of how much Marya likely hated her. She generally considered herself pleased with the perception the school body had of her, yet there were exceptions. And while the brunette hadn't spoken to Marya since her and Pierre were still dating, it had given her an abundance of time to decide Marya did not like her. Helene was entirely disliked by three people in her entire life, and those consequences were not particularly stellar. Thus, she'd managed to avoid interacting with who she perceived was the fourth. If she didn't see Marya, she didn't need proof of the older girl's hatred. And if she saw her, and was forced to interact with her, there was no way in hell she was going to stay sober enough to care. </p>
<p>The water bottle was slid back to the redhead once her expression softened, even just the slightest bit. It was the disdainful sigh; it wasn't a locked jaw anymore. Instead, her elbow rested on the table, pointing to the history textbook. "What are you having issues with?" Marya relented, resting her chin on her knuckles. There were several things the redhead anticipated, however none of them were the indignant scoff.</p>
<p>"I'm not 'having issues' with any of it," She air quoted with a flick of her wrist way more characteristic of her rather excessive-by-nature brother. </p>
<p>Marya's eyebrows raised. "And yet the teacher said-"</p>
<p>"I know the stuff," Helene explained, leaning farther back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest. </p>
<p>"So then what's your grade in the class?"</p>
<p>"That's not a fair question,"</p>
<p>"And why is that?" Helene gave her a dubious look, as if Marya was the one begged to go to a tutor, and threw both her hands in the air. Marya took a glance at the clock and hoped to the higher heavens forty minutes could pass quickly. In truth, the redhead had nothing against the female Kuragin. If anything, knew almost nothing about her. Nothing that she was confident was true, at least; Helene was notorious in Pierre's circle for not fighting rumors more for the amusement than honesty. Despite the long term relationship, Marya had only really spoken to Helene once or twice aside from brief greetings when the brunette would find Pierre a minute before lunch ended so they could walk to class together. And they little they spoke had no substance at all. And Pierre's minimal discussion of his girlfriend even amidst their relationship didn't help. Yet it was coming to her attention interactions surrounding Helene often posed more questions than they answered. What a real first impression to give. </p>
<p>"Because school grades are stupid. They are <em>school </em>grades. Why is half the grade about the shit we do at home? It doesn't make sense," Helene rattled off, sliding the textbook off her notebook and in front of Marya so she could flip through her notebook unencumbered. "The school system is so fucked. I wonder if other schools are this dumb. Like, internationally," She clarified with one too many gesticulations, huffing to herself as the pages fanned through her fingers. "I hate The U of S. It should just get eliminated already, like the seven city council members in Prague," While it didn't really make sense in its wording, Marya also knitted her brows together.</p>
<p>"Doesn't your dad work for the government?" Marya asked, unable to help a small chuckle. </p>
<p>"Then I hate him too," </p>
<p>"You want to defenestrate your father?"</p>
<p>"Sure, I don't see why not," Helene answered with a dismissive wave of her hand and a loud 'ah!' upon finding her notes page. She all but shoved it in Marya's face, the older girl grabbing both Helene's wrists gently to pull the notebook down and away from her line of sight. Marya was almost jarred by the brightness to amber-colored eyes, staring at her with a mix of energy and and full honesty. "You have nice eyes, by the way," The brunette said, taking the words from the redhead's mouth, finger poking her nose. As soon as the moment began it was gone when Helene nodded down to her notebook, inviting Marya to take a look.</p>
<p>To say Marya was shocked was an understatement. "Do you take these in class?" Helene hummed an affirmative. "How do you have time to color code like this?" The neat handwriting in loopy cursive felt on-brand, but how it looked like she was staring at a master sheet of information, perfectly organized with a whole key in the corner as to what each color meant when written in it was...not what she was expecting from someone of her reputation. Helene shrugged, turning her attention to her own water bottle, taking several large sips and only slightly grimacing as it went down her throat, flinching away slightly at how sharply Marya had taken the bottle from her. </p>
<p>"Oh come on, that's rude,"</p>
<p>"Maybe that's why you are stuck here with me," Marya told her, watching Helene frown at her for a fraction of a second before it turned to a smile and an easy shrug of her shoulders. </p>
<p>"Today is just special," Helene gave a lopsided smile. "I'm here because homework is a construct,"</p>
<p>"Do you even know-"</p>
<p>"What, you wanna see my test scores or something?" The brunette challenged, and Marya could only pinch the bridge of her nose with one hand and slide her water to Helene with the other. "I want my water,"</p>
<p>"Well, how about some actual water, hm?"</p>
<p>"You're no fun,"</p>
<p>"I don't know how you expected tutoring to be fun," Marya grunted, taking the notebook back in her hands and studying the meticulously organized notes with her eyebrows raised slightly, lip between her teeth. Marya didn't understand Helene, and didn't think she ever would. A lot of questions swarmed around her head as she stared at the words in front of her. One hell of a girl, that Kuragin was. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Perhaps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya recounts her first tutoring session with Helene, and begins to consider two things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>IM BACK<br/>Sorry I was gone for so long- my laptop broke and things got crazy! But now hopefully I can update this more. All of your support means the world to me &lt;3</p><p>Also, for reference in this fic, I changed relations a bit. Natasha and Sonya are just best friends, but Marya and Natasha are cousins!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Yeah, Helene drunk is the equivalent of Anatole sober,” Pierre mused without so much as looking up from his textbook, sounding way more unsurprised than what Marya would have deemed satisfying. He could vaguely see out of the corner of his eye the redheaded upperclassman gaping and finally peered upwards at her. “I thought you would have expected that,” </p><p>“No, I thought she would find value in the time and at the very least <em> use it! </em>”</p><p>“She is probably stressed out, so just let it be for a bit,” Pierre tried to calm the redhead’s fiery temper. Whether or not Marya wanted to see it at the moment, this was a long term engagement; it was not the first time Pierre had to be the voice of reason to a very stubborn Marya Dmitrievna, and it would not be the last. Marya could keep her distaste subtle, but anger did not reflect so well on the honor roll student. He knew how much Marya needed to keep this bridge intact, just as he knew the secrets of Helene that Marya would hopefully not have to find out. </p><p>“You’re giving her a lot of benefit of the doubt,” Marya pointed out, watching as her best friend meticulously dog-earred the page he was taking comprehension questions out of and slowly closed the textbook in front of him. </p><p>“That, or I know my ex girlfriend very well,” The redhead scowled, sinking back slightly in her chair and blowing a piece of hair away from her face. “I dated her for a long time, Marya. Maybe you should trust her just a little bit,” </p><p>“Well, she gives terrible first impressions as a student,” <em> And as a girlfriend, but that was beside the point.  </em></p><p>“You weren’t exactly nice to her when we broke up,” </p><p>Marya didn’t have a retort for that. Glaring at her every time she so much as breathed probably wasn’t one of her kindest moments. At the time, however, it felt perfectly justified, despite Pierre’s quiet pleads to stop putting the girl six feet under with her eyes alone. Marya had always been the confrontational type, and being held back from doing so only made her even more furious. It would be occasionally bumping into her in the hallway or saying very loudly that she had a crowbar in her car whenever Helene was in earshot. While borderline terrorizing the girl only lasted a week or two, it hadn’t really occurred to Marya those were the last times their paths ever crossed when they were sober. </p><p>“Marya!” A loud squeal over Marya’s shoulder made her realize how lost in her thoughts she’d become, offering a bright smile towards Natasha and a slightly more obligatory kind to the redhead on her heels. “I’ve missed you!” The freshman continued with bubbly enthusiasm, bending over to wrap her arms tightly around Marya by the shoulders. She spoke as if Marya hadn’t been the one that dropped her off at school mere hours ago, but the older woman couldn’t help the swell of endearment as Natasha finally released her. </p><p>“Natasha, how are you, dear?” Upon Natasha sitting down, Marya took a moment to look at her cousin. And it did not take a mind reader to tell that while Natasha was typically the most cheery of the bunch, her smile was even brighter, being filled with it even beyond her eyes. She sat poised forwards, glowing, hands clasped tight with excitement on the desk across from where Marya sat. </p><p>“I had the most <em> beautiful </em> day,” She sighed dreamily, ignoring the scoff from beside her as Sonya sat down. Marya shot the other redhead a warning glare before turning her attention back to Natasha, nodding her on. “Ignoring Sonya-” Natasha nudged her best friend giddily, shushing her by swinging her hand in front of Sonyya’s face, moving an index finger over the center of Sonya’s lips as she rambled, “So I had to switch my schedule, right?! And I was so <em> upset, </em> because Andrei wasn’t in my class anymore because, you know, cute boy and all, <em> but then </em>I go into my French class, right?! And oh my god, Marya-” Marya’s eyes narrowed, “-Oh my goodness, Marya, I walk in and there sits the most attractive boy on the planet! Like prince charming on steroids type hot! When he spoke French? I melted!” </p><p>“So all of this is about a boy?” Marya allowed how unimpressed she was show in both her tone of voice and raised eyebrows. It seemed like the one thing both her and Sonya could agree upon. </p><p>“Not just <em> a boy!” </em>Natasha all but shrieked, voice so loud just about everyone in the honor’s classroom turned their heads. “The boy!” </p><p>“Did you even talk to him?” Pierre picked up his head, gingerly folding his glasses and placing them on the desk on top of his textbook. </p><p>“Yes!” Natasha exclaimed with similar animation. “Well, I don’t remember anything he said-”</p><p>“So how do you know if you like him?”</p><p>“Because I saw him with my own two eyes!” </p><p>“You don’t even know his name,” Sonya pointed out, rolling her eyes, letting out a squeak of indignance as Natasha cupped her hand over her best friend’s mouth to continue her raving.</p><p>“I will see him tomorrow and I’ll ask him then, duh!” Natasha continued with her smile growing, cheeks heating up at the prospect alone. “And his eyes are like seaglass. He’s a literal work of art,” Sonya swatted Natasha’s hand away to the sound of Pierre’s light chuckling and Marya’s unconvinced hum. </p><p>“<em> Anyway,” </em>Sonya interjected pointedly, “How were your days? Pierre? Marya?” The lone male of the group turned his head to Marya, waiting for her to get her thoughts off her chest once more, and to a more likely receptive party given Sonya was a part of it. </p><p>“I had my first tutoring session with the Kuragin girl today,” Marya offered, trying not to sound bitter. Natasha nodded eagerly, and Sonya tilted her head slightly. “She came, which would have been good if she were sober,”</p><p>“How did it go?” Sonya asked, sounding as skeptical as one would expect. Someone drunk in school wasn’t necessarily uncommon, especially with Helene’s affiliates, but it was pretty well-known that Helene also was liked by the faculty. One didn’t get favorable opinions by being intoxicated in school. </p><p>“She was tipsy, Sonya,” Marya grumbled. </p><p>“She could still be smart <em> and </em>tipsy,” Sonya pointed out. It was the second thing Marya had been made to consider that day. </p><p>“I mean she took good notes,” Marya reasoned after a long pause. “But then she went on entire tangent about how school and homework is an unfair societal norm...something like that, I don’t know-I was trying to get the girl to learn about the Thirty Years War,”</p><p>“You’re literally <em>trying</em> to only see the negatives, Marya,” Natasha pointed out after a long moment, scowling at her. It was as if for a short moment, the pair switched roles: Marya becoming the one blinded by her opinions and Natasha the observer who brought sense into the world amidst a fit of passion. Marya couldn’t decide if she hated this alteration or welcomed it, sighing and running a hand through her hair. “You said she took good notes! That’s something you can work with,”</p><p>“I guess. I think I’d prefer sloppy notes and sobriety, though,”</p><p>“Maybe next time will be better,” This time it was Sonya who offered the comment, giving a small, sheepish smile. Pierre gave a nod of agreement, followed by another one of his knowing looks that made Marya feel like a scolded child.</p><p>"Maybe..." Marya mumbled.</p><p>The next time was definitely different, but Marya couldn’t decide whether it was worse or better. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm not really sure if I am going to pick this up as the next tutoring session or do Helene's side of things? I finally got my laptop back so I am hoping to get out more consistent updates!<br/>As always, feedback is greatly appreciated :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A piece of paper builds bridges: slowly and frustratingly. It is a lot quicker to possibly burn them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yall I am so sorry I suck at replying to comments- I will try to be better moving forward!! Thank you all endlessly for your support! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Marya took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as she looked over at the brunette girl a grade beneath her. Her brows were furrowed together, lips pressed into a firm line. Blue eyes ran over Helene’s facial expressions, trying to identify whether her prior words had been a joke or not. Unfortunately, when it came to Helene, most of her emotions were eerily impossible to distinguish. The only hint she could have gotten was a smirk or another strong whiff of alcohol, but the redhead was met with neither. “I can’t tell if you’re serious,” Marya deadpanned after a long bout of silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helene, on the other hand, just blinked at her. She had a worksheet pressed protectively to her chest, eyes even more narrowed than Marya’s were. Helene was trying to get a read on Marya too, but was doing so on the defensive. Why the Kuragine was making this difficult, Marya did not know, but was confident she was bound to throw in the towel by the end of the week. First being tipsy, then this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tutor you if you won’t let me see your answers,” Marya huffed, but Helene shied away, fingers curling into the paper and crinkling it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what if I got it wrong?” Helene inquired, and there was a moment that she smirked, but the confident gesture was negated by how her fingers practically ripped through her curls. Marya needed a moment to register that this girl just told her </span>
  <em>
    <span>tutor </span>
  </em>
  <span>she couldn’t see the paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we work on them and find out why it’s wrong. That’s what this is for, you know,” Marya pointed out, but Helene’s grip was tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were here to babysit me,” Helene arched a brow, watching as Marya gave a roll of her eyes so drastic it bordered on impressive. “What? Did I not get the memo?” She laughed lightly, putting the paper down on the table, seeing as Marya seemed to have given up for the time being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya would reluctantly play the game if it meant getting the job done, she supposed. If anyone were to ask, she would insist that was the lone case-not that this girl was someone of intrigue-so poised, cold, but adored by everyone that roamed the halls of their high school. Both of the Kuragins had that sort of charm to them, allegedly, though Marya had never once felt the allure of the youngest Kuragin sibling. She had not been close enough to Helene before to determine if it worked on her, however assumed it was safe to say no due to how drastically the blonde seemed to repel her. Marya did not see it in the realm of possibility that she enjoyed how the other girl was confident enough Marya’s stare didn’t make her cower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am supposed to help you with your homework,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so like a child?” Helene asked, voice feigning innocent, yet somehow sharp all the same. Helene had never liked patronizing words-no one did, but they bristled against Helene’s skin like it was physically painful every time. “Not needed,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, how am I supposed to know if that’s true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By trusting me?” Helene challenged. Ah, there it was. The bite. It was subtle, just the smallest hint of incredulousness to it that Marya would not have noticed had she not been searching for it so intensely. Maybe she was grinding Helene’s gears a little bit, nevertheless that had been the entirety of their first session, and Marya found it only fair. Helene was known to go off the handle exactly never, even when she and Pierre were arguing in the hallways, even when Anna Pavlovna slapped her across the face for sleeping with her boyfriend just a few months ago. Marya was too similar to not know there was some kind of emotion underneath the surface. What those emotions were it seemed she had begun to discover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I trust you over the teacher who sent you here?” It was quiet moment; maybe Helene realized she’d just lost, or maybe she was trying to figure out what kind of action to take next. Marya made the next move for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lunging across the table, Marya swiped the paper off the table, smirking in triumph at Helene’s indignant squeak. “Fuck you,” Helene mumbled, sinking into the chair a bit deeper as she watched blue eyes scan over each word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you, you didn’t need to make it that hard,” Marya retorted, voice more playful than Helene would have expected it to be; she never anticipated Marya to be the bantering type. Just one of the many ways she’d underestimated the Dragon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Helene was expected to interact with Marya Dmitrievna, of all people, she suspected death would be a better punishment. She underestimated the redhead’s ability to stomach her hatred and face her. It took more than a small amount of convincing, but when Fedya of all people insisted Marya did not hate her enough she had to get drunk so it didn’t feel like it mattered, you had to listen. She underestimated how nice the girl’s hair was, too, by the way; Helene was easily lost in the way it cascaded over one side of her face as she read each paragraph intently, the warmth of its tone complimenting the warmth of her undertones, highlighting the color of her eyes like something out of a beauty magazine. Lost enough that Marya repeatedly was batting the piece of paper on her arm over and over again to try and regain her attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are all the Kuragins space cases?” Marya scoffed, placing it down on the table and pointing to a problem. Helene jumped at her voice, eyes shooting down to the paper after a half second. “Did someone else write this one for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Helene looked up at her, lips pressed into a line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not your handwriting,” Marya pointed at it a bit more aggressively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is,” The brunette responded slowly, now taking her turn in speaking to Marya like she was a child, using her tone to get the spiteful message across. “Everyone can write in cursive and print,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the others are cursive,” Marya scowled. Lying to her face was bold, and even more bold was doing it while staring straight at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I ran out of colors, so I just changed the font instead. Only had five pens today, and six questions,” Helene reasoned like that made any sense. “Eidetic memory. I thought that was already clear,” The brunette gestured downwards, “Need me to prove it?” Marya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, but shook her head slowly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why change the colors then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makes it easier to distinguish them,” Helene told her easily, shrugging. “What’s the benefit if you are just looking at a block of text that all looks the same? That takes too much time,”  Marya had no choice but to condone her for that one; a bit of a cheat to be able to expend so little effort, but props for using it. “Is it all right, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It is,” Marya concluded with a deep breath; maybe she really was just babysitting Helene Kuragin, given she seemed fully capable of recalling information and getting answers. The longer she sat there, the longer she predicted this may be a waste of time. Then again, maybe it wasn’t. “Has it ever occurred to you how quickly you could get assignments done if you just tried to do them?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No time,” Helene dismissed quickly, sitting back admiring her hair once more, adding onto her sentiment after a pause, “How do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>have time to just stare at me doing homework?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do my work when I’m supposed to,” Marya responded without a second of hesitation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why though?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I actually want to get good grades,” Helene laughed at that, and Marya swore her teeth could have blinded a man. She smiled like it was a joke; maybe Helene just didn’t understand how...</span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely </span>
  </em>
  <span>things were when living alone. Of course she didn’t: she had a boisterous idiot for a brother and parents that were still there to support her. Helene did not sit alone in a house her parents left her in when they passed. It wouldn’t be fair to expect Helene to understand that. It was a whole lot more than good grades-it was survival-but like Helene, she did not express a large majority of things she wasn’t confident a stranger would be willing to keep close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to go to an Ivy League or something?” Helene inquired, resting her head on the hell of her palm, head tilted curiously. Helene had known at least of Marya for years, and never once doubted her intelligence. The color that rose to Marya’s cheeks indicated maybe she didn’t have the same confidence. “I’m sure you could-” Helene mused as a careful afterthought, though just as the last syllable fell through her lips, Marya’s phone began to vibrate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya’s glance down spanned no longer than a couple of seconds, but in those brief seconds, Marya’s jaw clenched. Blue eyes were suddenly on fire and Helene bit her lip. She didn’t know what she did, though she could only assume she was at fault. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In all of this fifty minutes we;ve been sitting here, you did not once think to tell me your brother wanted to ask out Natasha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Warning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya and Helene navigate a rollercoaster of emotions regarding the people they care most about in their lives</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm uh...I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I really wanted to get something out this month! I also didn't edit, so I am so, so sorry hahahahah<br/> I'm sorry for the long wait-I've just been so caught up in reading everyone else's work (all of which are exceptional, by the way. I highly recommend you check out ALL the marlene fics as the writers are exceptional)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Marya wasn’t sure what shocked her more: Natasha’s text, or the fact Helene seemed genuinely bewildered at the redhead’s declaration. Helene was leaned away slightly, blinking at her while anticipating an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” The younger of the two pointed out, eyes widened slightly. The confusion showed on her face, but not so much in her voice. To be fair, very little ever showed in that. That was not to say Marya would have felt a little better if she sounded as surprised as she looked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your brother must’ve told you,” Marya settled with, voice lacking the accusation anyone would have expected. Blue eyes scrutinized every part of the other girl as she leaned forward on the table, chin rested on the heel of her left palm with her head turned Marya’s way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, Anatole mentioned it with fleeting words and a long fit of passion the night before, however Helene had learned long ago to tune them out when they became about things she had no tie to; once he asked her to do something </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>him she would listen, but until then it was all just a flurry of adjectives and names that he would throw around-extreme hand gestures, screams, and all. The name Natasha rung a bell, but there were far more...</span>
  <em>
    <span>important</span>
  </em>
  <span> matters she needed to focus on any given day. She loved her brother more than she loved herself for sure, and probably just about everything else in the world. Yet that did not mean she had the time or means to listen to him when he was like this; it was nearly impossible to pick out the key points in his long winded speeches when each word he spoke sounded like a world-wide emergency. She was probably screwed if Anatole were the one telling her of an apocalypse, honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know how much my brother talks on a day to day basis?” Was what she settled on, arching a brow. Her gaze peered upwards, following Marya as she rose to her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Walk with me,” It wasn’t a request, and Helene didn’t read it as one, doing so immediately. She did as Marya asked, and only as Marya walked out of the room muttering something about getting food from the vending machine did Helene turn to look at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I do not want anyone to see me kill you,” Helene only laughed and Marya had no choice but to whip around and look at her. "I'm not kidding," Except the Kuragin's giggling continued and each step Marya took that Helene had a smile on her face added a method of murder to the list of possibilities. Maybe she could smack the girl with her damn color coded notebook and bludgeon her to death. She could play nice with Helene, but not with the knowledge of what Helene surely must've known about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is so ridiculous, Marya-” Helene began, smiling, and the fire burning in Marya’s chest finally seemed to reach her fingertips in the way she reached out, fingers curling around the fabric of Helene’s neckline. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it?” Marya challenged, her teeth gritting. The redhead did not do any more than grasp onto the fabric of her shirt, because that was all it took for Helene’s expression to turn to stone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is this my responsibility?” It was hard to kindle or ignite a fire when cold was so close by. It occurred to Marya in that moment that the two of them had never argued with each other before. In fact, they’d rarely ever spoken before this week. Nearing its end, they’d probably spoken more in four days than they had in all their lives. Despite the differences they had between one another, and all the bridges of mutual people that should have burned long ago, Helene’s passivity meant a confrontation had been inevitable for years. Marya anticipated explosions. She didn’t anticipate this. “You are related to Natasha. You can’t play the relative card,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You live in the same house!” Marya exclaimed, letting go of Helene’s shirt to throw her arms in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I regret to inform you we often have more pressing things to discuss than infatuations. I can only tune in to so many of his speeches,” Helene explained, all calm and composure. There was no anger, not even a flicker for frustration in her eyes. The words themselves sounded like they should have been said with snark, but the entire sentiment came out flat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a good sister you are. Such a good listener,” Marya sneered; the redhead tried to play nice, She really did, but now Marya needed the fight-needed something so she didn’t yell at Natasha for being so reckless. It couldn’t be Marya’s fault. She refused for it to be. It could be Sonya’s, or Helene’s, but the concept of allowing Anatole the chance to harm the one person she promised to protect was not going over well. Maybe it was picking a fight, but it was a distraction, and in the moment, the jab seemed fair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are not even capable of dealing with me for a whole hour without getting irritated, and yet you want to criticize me for trying to prioritize specific conversation topics with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anatole, </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all people?” Helene asked, one eyebrow arched. Something shifted, a small sliver of something edging into Helene’s voice. Marya, however, was more focused on the first part of Helene’s refute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I clearly can deal with you or we wouldn’t be standing here,” Marya’s stance and tone remained argumentative, and Helene crossed her arms over her chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a line between bare tolerance and hostility and it is unnerving that you do not see it,” Helene fired off quickly, and Marya was ready to retort, fists already beginning to clench. “Can I see what Natasha said?” Then came the question. One that she didn’t expect to hear amidst what was growing into something that could’ve become the high school fight of the month. It was unexpected enough Marya just stared at her for a moment, blinking. It took a moment, but Helene ended up outstretching her hand palm up, waiting for the phone to be placed there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Marya asked, and Helene seemed genuinely shocked for a moment that the diversion seemed to work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Helene rested a hand on her hip, “I want to know what we are dealing with here,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We?” Helene gave her an odd look, one Marya had not seen before, nor knew her well enough to even guess what it meant. Nevertheless, the redhead placed her phone in Helene’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anatole does not have the time to be chasing a girl right now,” Helene scoffed, eyes scanning over the text and nodding to herself. She could feel blue eyes prying into her, awaiting a reaction. As Helene read the words several times over, the class bell began to chime. Immediately, chaos filled the hallway. Yet Marya found it almost too easy to focus on Helene, and Helene exclusively.  “Okay, so it sounds like she is just asking if they can go to the park?” Marya nodded, teeth grinding. She didn’t expect to feel the brunette swat her on the arm, jumping away and shooting a glare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a nice smile so stop ruining your teeth,” Helene chided, not even giving Marya time to react before carrying on, “Parks can be totally platonic. I don’t know why you’re freaking out,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think it’s platonic?” Marya didn’t hide her skepticality, though she seemed to be intently listening for Helene’s opinion. Natasha was direct, and from what she understood Anatole was the same. However, the redhead was unfamiliar with Anatole by choice; if anyone was going to be able to predict Anatole’s decisions and motives, it was going to be Helene. Trusting the brunette made her feel slightly ill, but she stomached the feeling to try and mend the brewing conflict. If Helene could quell concerns, there was a chance she could quell the guilt of letting Natasha make these plans at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I can’t be sure, but he’s more of the wooing type. This isn’t extravagant enough for him,” Helene mused, tapping her manicured nails on the side of Marya’s phone. “Unless he makes some big plan with a whole candlelit pic-” Helene cut herself short at the way Marya’s eyes widened, amending her statement quickly with a smile. “If he does, I’ll be the first to know,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t help stop it,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then you can stop Natasha from going,” Helene explained with a shrug. Marya, however, did not look impressed. “How about I text you if worse comes to worst?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have my number,” Marya pointed out, and Helene simply shook the redhead’s phone in her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucky for you, it’s not a very hard thing to type,” The brunette gave her a tight lipped smile, grabbing Marya’s wrist again, opening her fingers and placing Marya’s phone back in her palm to the sound of her name being called loudly from somewhere down the hall. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>relax, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marya. You’re allowed to let Natasha make her own mistakes you know,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those were Helene’s parting words, already swept away into the crowd like nothing ever happened. The redhead’s jaw involuntarily clenched at the thoughts, but just as quickly felt the ghost of Helene’s hand lightly hitting her arm. A sigh pushed past her lips, jaw growing slack as the senior moved through the crowd in search of a certain familiar face. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Somehow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya gets increasingly wary of the interaction about to happen, and turns to Helene for advice. What comes out of it is not what they expected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a long one friends. I thought it was going to be like 800 words but honestly this story writes itself haha</p><p>Also, we finally meet Anatole and Fedya :) I am always a bit wary when writing them, so I apologize in advance! Also, i tried some new formatting, let me know if it works!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sonya.” The younger redhead jumped at Marya’s voice with a squeak. An eyebrow was arched in the underclassman’s direction-looking judgemental for only a moment as Sonya hugged her books impossibly tighter to her chest. Dark colored eyes were wide, and daring in meeting Marya’s blue ones. </p><p>“I swear I didn’t know about Natasha’s plans. I would have-” Sonya’s words stopped as Marya slowly put up a hand, silencing her. It was a bit shocking to see Marya’s eyes weren’t ablaze. </p><p>“Helene said she would worry about it. I have other questions,” As soon as she could see the redheaded senior wasn’t upset at her, a hand laid her books on the ground in front of her locker, resting a hand on her hip. </p><p>“So do I: since when did you trust Helene?” </p><p>While Marya and Sonya were not the closest-only tied to one another by their tight relationships with Natasha- the elder of the two did appreciate the duality Sonya offered. Natasha’s best friend was as kind as they came, willing to do just about anything for their beloved Natasha, however had a healthy level of sarcasm and snark. She was genuine in the things she did: questions included. And once Marya did not pose a threat, Sonya fell into the role of asking questions Marya didn’t always have the answers to. </p><p>“Since she is the one who is related to Anatole,” Marya explained with a scoff, despite the fact she knew it wasn’t too sound of an answer. </p><p>“They’re possibly even worse together than they are apart, you know,” </p><p>“Yes, I do know,” Marya responded in a grumble, eyes moving around the hallway at the ones focused on her. She was, in some way, one of the higher-ups in terms of the social pyramid. Not in the way the Kuragin duo was, but it was not unheard of to have people craning their necks or lowering their voices to hear any drama the redhead may have been tied into. But this: <em> all </em>of the eyes on her, was mostly unheard of. Lips were moving, only looking away when the redhead caught their eyes. “Do you think Natasha would tell me if she were going on a date?” </p><p>Sonya’s grin was meek, head bowing slightly. The younger’s comfort zone consisted of Natasha’s friendship, and Marya’s was not in it. Partially for this reason: the demanding nature of Marya’s questions and requests. There wasn’t a way to dodge her dialogue. “You could always ask her,” She suggested, already trying to get out of the crossfire. There was no saying how big of a war this could become. Now was only the start. Maybe Marya was hopeful and Natasha in love, but Sonya was practical. “Did she say Anatole thought it was?” </p><p>“I’ll text her and ask,” Marya’s response was immediate, and Sonya hit her with widened eyes of concern, a hand placed on her arm. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Now it was Marya’s turn to look bewildered. “You’re really that stressed over this that you got Helene’s number?” </p><p>“I didn’t think texting Helene would be a big deal,” Did she feel awful for having her best friend's ex as a contact now? Yes. But it was all in the name of Natasha, of course. </p><p>The younger redhead arched a brow, frowning. “You hated her less than 24 hours ago,”</p><p>“I did not hate her,” A moment. “I never hated her,”</p><p>“So you’re just voluntarily talking to Helene Kuragin now?”</p><p>“No,” Marya defended sharply. “Of course not. It’s just for Natasha. I would never,” </p><p>“But you just said-”</p><p>“Is it your business?” Marya snapped, hoping it would be enough for the younger girl to stop. Marya didn’t know the answers, and the more Sonya asked the more she grew unsettled by her lack of her own response. </p><p>“Sorry…” Sonya muttered, scuffling the front of her shoes on the linoleum floors. </p><p>“Exactly,” Clearing her throat, Marya lifted her head higher, ignoring the prying eyes of those around them. She felt Sonya’s presence stick beside her, and walked the slightest bit faster to go and find Natasha. </p><p> </p><p>--</p><p>Helene kicked her Doc Martens up onto the chair beside Anatole in the corner of the abandoned choir room, crossing them at the ankles as he continued on a rather passionate tirade about who knew what. It wasn’t about Natasha, meaning right now it was not of importance. “-But then she called irresponsible, and I am <em> not </em> irresponsible, I simply <em> instigated </em>what was most important, and-”</p><p>She could vaguely hear Fedya snort from the seat across from Anatole’s and behind her spot on the table. “That’s not the word you’re looking for,” His fingers were drumming into the small of her back, a small indication Anatole had indeed been going on for as long as she thought. </p><p>“Don’t interrupt me!” The blonde wailed, flinging his hands around. “You’re so rude to me, Dolokhov!” Helene didn’t show any indication she was listening, burying her face in her phone to distract from the amusement on her features; if there were any signs she was listening, she’d be reigned in. As much fun as listening to fits of passion could be, there were things to strategize. </p><p>“I’m helping your vocabulary,” Came Fedya’s response, and she could hear the smirk on his lips. “Go on, before I get up and leave,” He beckoned in a way that was half mocking-not that Anatole noticed.</p><p>“<em> Anyway, </em>so I am sitting in my class, and I am talking to Valeria-pretty volleyball player, best ass of the century, and-”</p><p>“That was not what you were talking about two seconds ago,”</p><p>“Stop being <em> mean!” </em>A very dramatic head turn followed, gesturing towards Fedya with an accusatory finger. “Lena, he’s being rude!” </p><p>“She is one hundred percent not listening to you,”</p><p>“<em> RUDE!” </em>Helene had gradually gone from listening to tuning him out completely, only hearing blurs of words and sentence fragments. Something about wine, then the school colors. Maybe something to do with candles? There was a brief moment that she swore he was discussing an elaborate revenge plot involving the football field, and almost decided to bit the bullet and pick up her head. </p><p>She would have, too, had a text not appeared on her screen from an unknown number. </p><p> </p><p><b>Unknown: </b>Hi Helene. This is Marya Dmitrievna. I’m hoping this is the right number?</p><p> </p><p>Helene stared at her screen for a moment, completely frozen. Realistically, Helene knew this should not have shocked her; she gave the redhead her number, so why wouldn’t she text Helene? Especially about something she cared so intensely about. But now that the woman’s name was actually on her screen, Helene was dumbfounded. Anatole was yelling now yet she genuinely did not notice. Marya was not supposed to actually text her. Did Helene <em> want </em> Marya to text her? Did Marya <em> want </em> her to respond? Or was it a customary thing? Marya had damn near thrown her just an hour before, been the best friend of Helene’s ex...the list went on. Did <em> she </em> want to text <em> Marya </em>? </p><p>“And he made our class run laps, and then said he’d tell our track coach and that-<em> Helene are you even listening to me?!” </em>Finally, her head shot upwards when Fedya smacked her on the back to gain her attention. </p><p>“What a weird way to start a conversation,” Helene laughed at her brother’s offended, borderline horrified stare. </p><p>“Helene!” He drew out in a whine to the sound of Fedya’s laughter. </p><p>“What?” She reigned him in before they could gain the attention of whoever was outside in the hallway.</p><p>“You weren’t listening to me because you were <em> texting, </em>” He said the last word with his nose crinkled in disgust. “While I’m right here!”</p><p>“I was texting Natasha,” Helene lied smoothly, satisfied with her own transition. “She said you were going to the park together later?” Anatole nodded eagerly and Fedya’s hand moved away from her back. </p><p>“Anatole, I don’t think that’s a good idea…” He trailed off uneasily. There was the faint sound of the chair being pulled out as he finally circled around to be beside the blonde, swatting Helene’s legs away so he could sit. “Marya will actually kill you,” </p><p>“It’s the park. I’m not going to fuck her in a park,”  </p><p>“You would fuck in a park,” Helene pointed out, glanicng briefly at Fedya to try and read his expression. </p><p>“Not Natasha,” Anatole drew out dramatically. “And don’t be so crude,”</p><p>“I’m not. You told me you fucked that girl-whatsherface- in the park two weeks ago,” </p><p>Fedya pointed at Helene in conformation of her story and Anatole rolled his eyes, shoulders slumping. But just as quickly as he was sulking had he jumped up again, eyes shining. </p><p>“What did she say?!” Helene didn’t even blink at the sudden change of demeanor, used to it from her brother by now. The brunette seemed to know everyone; thinking about it, it was a shock she hadn’t gotten Marya’s number at some point earlier in their lives. Helene could be found texting or talking to just about anyone in the school, from Anna Pavlova to quiet mary Bolkonsky. She knew everyone, meaning by extension Anatole had the same privileges. </p><p>“In the text?” </p><p>“Yes!” he reached for her phone, making a noise of indignance as she swatted his hand away. </p><p>“She’s excited,” </p><p>“That’s it?”</p><p>“Girl things,” There was a brief moment where her and Fedya locked knowing eyes. His green eyes narrowed, but he didn’t call her out. He was smart enough to know better. </p><p>“What kind of girl things?” </p><p>“Let me text her back, Jesus,” Helene tried not to wince as she typed out a response. </p><p> </p><p><b>Helene: </b>hey hey girl! Right number :) </p><p> </p><p>“Anatole let the girl type in peace,” Fedya scoffed, resting a calming hand on the blonde’s shoulder. On the bright side, Anatole’s insanity left little room for her to think over what she’d just sent. </p><p>“But I want-”</p><p>“Hush. Be nice to your sister,” </p><p>“She responded,” Helene narrated vaguely, sounding just a bit surprised. Anatole was caught mid-lunge by the back of his shirt. She knew right in that moment Fedya knew- his eyes locked onto hers again, this time more pointed. Helene offered her thanks in the form of a smile. </p><p> </p><p><b>Dragon: </b>Have you spoken to Anatole?</p><p><b>Helene: </b>Doing so rn!</p><p> </p><p>“Helene!” </p><p>“Anatole you gotta let her speak,” </p><p>“She can talk and type!” </p><p>“Shut up,” Helene told him, playful but preoccupied. Listening to their banter was amusing, and she couldn’t help but feel pity for her best friend. What a hopeless situation, really. She couldn’t decide if it would be worse if Fedya didn’t know that. </p><p> </p><p><b>Dragon: </b>I spoke to Natasha. She’s excited. </p><p><b>Dragon: </b>I’m unnerved. </p><p><b>Helene: </b>he isn’t going to do anything lololol </p><p><b>Dragon: </b>Then what do you expect to happen? </p><p><b>Helene: </b>If you don’t believe me you can go stalk them in the park then</p><p> </p><p>She realized a little too late that probably wasn’t the most Marya-appropriate response. Unfortunately, she also did not realize that showed up on her face, letting her guard down for half a second. But of course, Anatole would notice, his face going grave. </p><p>“Is everything okay?” </p><p>“Yeah, you’re fine,” She gave him a dismissive wave. </p><p>“You did that thing,” Anatole pointed out with insistence, gesturing over her face</p><p>“You did,” Fedya tagged on with a nod and Helene scowled. </p><p> </p><p><b>Dragon: </b>That isn’t a horrible idea.</p><p><b>Dragon: </b>But it’d be a little suspicious. Would you care to join me?</p><p>“You look like you just died inside,” Anatole piped up warily and Helene’s glare burned a hole into him. “Just kidding then?” </p><p>“No answers for you,” Helene barely managed to keep her voice even, trying to get an excuse to leave before her face turned bright red. She didn’t plan this. This was not how her evening was supposed to go. For hell’s sake. “You now will never know because you were being pushy,” </p><p><b>Helene: </b>what are we just going to dress in wigs and walk around? Im listening lololol</p><p><b>Dragon: </b>I don’t know. We can come up with something. </p><p> </p><p>“Helene you are so-I can’t believe you are withholding valuable information! From me! From your own brother!” Dolokhov was simply watching the whole thing go down, but Helene did not miss the mouthing of the words “You owe me” from over Anatole’s shoulder. </p><p>“Bye, Toyla!” Helene sing-songed as she shouldered the door open, head immediately down towards her phone, staring at her and Marya’s conversation as she grappled for footing on reality. </p><p> </p><p><b>Helene: </b>theyre meeting at 7. Meet @high school parking lot 7:05?</p><p><b>Dragon: </b>Deal. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Hoodie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya panics and makes a mistake, and Helene's reaction to their plan's adjustments isn't what Marya intends</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry y'all, this chapter is a little bit choppy :( I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless, as it gets some fun details in that will come in use in the future both near and far! Happy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Marya had been pacing for ten minutes, and yet she had not once broke her stride. It wasn’t helping her as much as it helped Natasha, apparently. The whole thing was impulsive, and Marya was not the kind of person to act at random like that. What on earth was she supposed to do with a Kuragin?! The only times they’d spoken had been over homework or enough shots the redhead barely remembered it. What does one do during a stake-out? She peered into her closet, for the first time in too long breaking the path in front her bed. What does one </span>
  <em>
    <span>wear </span>
  </em>
  <span>to a stake out? Is there a dress code for that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers danced over her phone screen, but abruptly stopped. What would Helene know? Plus, she’d been insane enough to text the girl once, she didn’t need to do it again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That would be weird, wouldn’t it? You can’t text her first twice. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marya naturally neglected to consider how often she’d done just that to anyone from Pierre to Mary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The redhead had only learned how to trust two people in the world: Pierre and herself. And Marya trusted Pierre more because he was predictable than he could keep a secret. There was minimal doubt in her mind telling him of her and Helene’s mischief it would reach someone- whether it be Sonya, or Dolokhov, or even Anatole and Natasha themselves. And so she was left with her own pondering and ideas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It needed to be, well, not suspicious. Not attract too much attention. How exactly she planned on doing that, she did not know. Because it would have been weird wandering the park, wouldn’t it? Marya was not the most ‘outdoorsy’ person; going to the park was reserved for children and parents. At seventeen Marya not only wasn’t that, but she was confident she couldn’t pull it off, and Helene definitely couldn’t either. So Marya did the next best thing: resort to Google. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, if anyone saw her search history that was accumulated over the next half hour, there’d be a lot of questions asked. “What do people do at parks?”, “What to use as a picnic blanket”, “picnic ideas”, and  “are picnic blankets flammable?” to name only a few.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MARYA DMITRIEVNA!” Natasha’s voice made Marya jump a good foot in the air, gaze whipping towards the smaller girl who had just about bulldozed her door open. Her eyes were wide, beaming. The redhead didn’t even have time to prepare before a body ran into her, swatting over and over again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me!” Marya simply let the girl flail her arms at her until she calmed. Marya’s original suspicion was this was pre-Anatole excitement, but those words were not that promising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going on a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date?!?!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya’s reaction was immediate, stumbling back several feet to increase the distance between her and her very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>enthused cousin. “A what?” Her head shook, but Natasha’s nodding was far more adamant than hers. “No, I am not!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You left the receipt on the table!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, how did you even get in my house?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nevermind that!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She squealed, “A candle, a blanket, </span>
  <em>
    <span>flowers?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Marya closed her eyes. Leave it to Natasha’s nosiness to find the things she hadn’t considered. More than that, she scolded herself for being so reckless. She knew Natasha was inquisitive-nosy almost to a fault. She’d know everything, and she’d do it first. Always. “That’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You are going on a date!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya’s mouth opened and closed several times. Dear Lord, explaining this one to Helene was going to be a time and a half. “You weren’t supposed to see that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is it?!” The redhead couldn’t save herself, but she could save their investigation. Pinching the bridge of her nose, her eyes went to her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just some boy…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me more!” Natasha pressed, only making things harder, as if Marya thought that was possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, you probably don’t know him,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I do. I know a lot of people,” Natasha batted her lashes, reaching to grab Marya’s hands tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t go to our school,” Marya explained slowly, groaning at the look of plain dissatisfaction she was receiving. “His name is Elijah,” Natasha had her phone in her hand immediately, tapping away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last name?” A pause. Marya didn’t have the under-pressure thinking for this. “Does he have an Instagram?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you after the date,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But he gave you flowers! He must be a keeper!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I’ll tell you after,” Marya scolded gently, sliding her hands out of Natasha’s to place them on her shoulders, turning her around manually, much to the younger girl’s protest. “Go get ready for Anatole,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Natasha.” Groaning the door shut behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Dragon: </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>I apologize in advance. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>-------</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya felt a small part of her die inside as Helene approached her, eyeing her with a small amused smile on her lips. “Getting dressed up for me, Marya?” She teased, voice light. Marya didn’t think she’d ever heard Helene sound genuinely bothered, and was a bit wary that this would be the first. Upon closer inspection, the brunette’s head tilted. “You look distressed. I promise I was only joking. The sun dress was not what I was expecting, is all,” Before Marya could tell her that was definitely not why she looked like she’d prefer getting swallowed by the ground, or perhaps dragged into an ocean by a shark, Helene continued her rambling while waiting for some signal of forgiveness. “You actually look quite beautiful in that. It’s very flattering; it brings out your eyes and really goes with your complexion,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kuragin,” Marya’s voice was uneasy, rubbing the back of her neck. She wasn’t sure if her face felt this hot before or if Helene’s words had hit her in the face. “It’s not what you said…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I look at you weird?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really do swear, you look stunning-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s not-” Marya made a noise that was something between a nervous laugh and clearing her throat. “It isn’t you. I kind of- I fucked up,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, you cursed. Sounds serious,” Marya often forgot how quick Helene could be. In some ways it was impressive, sure, but right now it was not helping the redhead in the slightest. Not when she was trying to tell Helene she needed to dress like a dude, for heaven’s sake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>did she even- “Well, now I’m concerned,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Marya gestured with her head towards her car. Helene walked after her, a few steps behind her, looking a bit more wary than the redhead wished she was. She pressed the unlock button to her car, bending over into the backseats of her car. “I need you to-” Marya reemerged with a bundle she shoved into Helene’s arms. “Don’t kill me for this,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would never,” Helene sounded oddly genuine, but it was difficult to read what that meant when her gaze was trained down at the fabric as she unfolded it in her arms. Still, something about the softness to her voice was for a brief moment unsettling for a reason Marya couldn’t place- it was something she was quick to try and rid of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need you to wear this,” Marya pointed down at the sweatshirt much too big for the brunette holding it. “It has a hood, and I kind of need you to hide your hair for this,” Helene’s eyes moved from the fabric to the redhead, one eyebrow raised. “I-this is going to sound weird,” She groaned, moving to bury her face in her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It already sounds weird,” Helene pointed out, but her tone was hard to place. It always was at Marya’s most crucial moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I kind of panicked because Natasha asked me questions, and now you’re going to be a guy for this,” There was a long pause of silence. Marya, already wincing, lifted her head. She expected Helene to bitch her out. What she got, however, was a smile almost as wide as Natasha’s when she barged into Marya’s room. Within seconds, she was laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh my god! Oh my god, yes, I love this,” Helene nodded to herself, already pulling it over her head, much to the redhead’s bewilderment. Marya could’ve sworn Helene was an entire new </span>
  <em>
    <span>breed </span>
  </em>
  <span>of person every damn time she saw her. “This trend amuses me so much,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What trend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the friend pretends to be a dude, yada yada-on tik tok,” Helene suggested as if Marya was supposed to understand what the hell she was talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god, do you not know what Tik Tok is?” Marya stared at her like she was speaking a different language. “...We need to change that, but one step at a time,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marya was taken by surprise that Helene all but threw her keys at Marya, the redhead just barely catching them before they hit her in the face. “You really think we’re gonna take your bright green Jeep to the park and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>get noticed?” Helene shrugged. “Why would I be driving your car?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, because I am endangering your life by getting behind the wheel with you in it,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re that bad of a driver?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that,” Helene dismissed after a wave of her hand, but swiped her keys back on the way to Marya’s car. “Ready to go be the worst and creepiest older family members of all time?” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Whiplash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Marya and Helene move towards their "date" spot.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Do you guys remember that time when I said I would make this the stakeout? Yeah, I was wrong. I got a little carried away, and I didn't want to make the chapter too long, so next chapter will be out by the end of the week!<br/>Mostly dialogue based today :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Helene had never been one for silence. She didn’t like it lingering overhead, or filling the car while she wrapped the strings of Marya’s hoodie around her finger. Marya was never the kind of person to chat in the car. That, however, did not mean a large part of it in this particular instance was the sudden, heavy realization that she got over the fear of texting Helene enough to actually do it, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Helene was a completely different ballpark: one she wished to run out of as soon as humanly possible. It was the guilt that constricted in her chest every time her eyes flit to the passenger seat, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya had sworn to herself she would never speak to Helene warmly. She simply never told Pierre of her silent word because she never thought it would become relevant. It shouldn’t have, really. Now it was out of control, and she was drowning in it. She had a rumor mill sitting in her passenger seat, bundled up in her hoodie with flowers awaiting in the back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What the hell was she doing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop doing that,” Helene’s voice abruptly cut off her thoughts ten seconds into the red light, scowling. Marya turned her head partway, looking somewhere between the light and the girl, though blue eyes looked judgemental in the way they scanned over her. Helene had her boots up on the dash so her knees were tightly into her chest, one of the strings of her hoodie coiled so tightly around her finger it was cutting off circulation. Nevertheless, she pulled her finger out of it quickly to point at Marya’s face. “Stop clenching your jaw. You always do that,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya scoffed, “No I don’t,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you do,” Helene protested in a voice of feigned innocence, though the smile at the corner of her mouth was smug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>stop cutting off your circulation,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did,” The moment of staring only stopped when the light turned green, and Helene’s smile turned to something serene for a moment, admiring the way it glowed against Marya’s skin, contrasting her clothes: making her look a little more human. Helene never truly knew what to make of Marya. “It makes you more stressed and it’ll screw up your TMJ,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No it won’t,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can Google it,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am driving,” She explained, gesturing to the light as it passed overhead, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>can Google it,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need to. I know what I said,” Helene told her with all the confidence of a small child in an argument, dropping feet back onto the floor mat and leaning back with a triumphant smile. Marya couldn’t decide if she was irritated by the confidence or amused. Her friendship with Pierre forced her conscience to say the former. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a long span of quiet, and only now did Marya seem to realize how uneasy it likely felt to her passenger. She really told Helene to pretend to be her date, put her in a car she’d never been in, and began to drive. Her teeth grinded together at the thought, but in the split second saw Helene turn to look at her in the corner of her vision. The look was entirely disapproving and conflicted on whether or not to comment. Marya spoke a criticism of her own before Helene could. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you high right now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Helene immediately sounded bewildered, but Marya didn’t drop it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked if you’re high,” Marya reiterated, flicking on the blinker. She turned her head to check she was good to turn and could literally see the moment Helene wiped her face blank. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” This time, Helene’s tone wasn’t possible to place. It was like she was with Pierre all over again-vague and unnaturally neutral. It never ceased to unsettle her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you smell like you are,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it matter?” Again, Marya couldn’t tell if it was defensive or curiosity. She paused. Helene looked no more or less phased. “You didn’t comment earlier,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s a yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you care if it’s a yes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya shrugged, “You’ve met Pierre,” She offered after a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True,” Helene sighed softly, lulling her head back and relenting, “Not really high. Very lightly buzzed. Dolokhov, however…” Helene’s subject change was immediate: she got her answer, drew her conclusions of how Marya took the knowledge, and she was satisfied. “Speaking of smells: are those roses?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Marya’s cheeks were red in seconds. “Yeah, yeah. They’re, uh, picnics...nature, you know...” Just like that, Helene’s expressions were back, animated and evidently humored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god, my dude really pulled out all the stops with you, didn’t he?” Marya gave an apprehensive smile. “Flowers, picnics- I am the best boyfriend of all time,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, is that a way guys do this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, no. But if you, like, looked up the perfect park date this would probably come up. Damn,” Helene was leaning over the center counsel, admiring the attention to detail with glowing eyes. “Boys aren’t the kind of people you like by choice,” She commented, smirking; as if Marya liked men at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya thought better than to tell her she’d have to double check the websites she looked at, then. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it believable?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Helene laughed, “Yes, I’d think so,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>--------</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya struggled to keep pace with Helene as she strode away from the car with a bundle in her arms following some comment along the lines of ‘and some say chivalry is dead’. The blanket was a bit large in comparison to her as a whole due to the way she was holding it. How Helene managed to half unfold the thing while picking it up Marya did not know, though she was certain it was amusing, almost endearing, to watch the girl struggling around with it, squealing any moment part of it fell through her arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need help?” Marya finally asked, barely suppressing her urge to laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m good!” Helene’s steps were humorously large and awkward, trying to compensate for the dragging cloth and how she always envisioned the ‘fuckboy swagger’. And, while thoroughly enjoyable to witness, Marya ended up walking ahead of her, turning around so they were face to face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please let me refold this or you’re going to fall and hurt yourself,” Marya pointed out, smiling as she grabbed Helene by the biceps to hold her in a place. Helene’s muscles tensed slightly under her touch and Marya immediately relaxed her hold, a bit taken aback, yet immediately disarmed again by the brunette’s smile. Her hands grazed over Helene’s to gather bunches of the material from her arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya couldn’t explain why she couldn’t look Helene in the eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfolded in front of them to refold it again, Helene glanced up at the redhead through incredulous eyes. “Marya, this is like a family sized blanket. It’s fucking huge,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in a rush and grabbed the first one I saw,” Naturally Marya defended herself, though continued in aiding the folding process. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not complaining,” Helene took the much more manageable blanket back in her arms as well as all the accessories to it they’d laid on the ground. Now that she was fully capable, Helene took the lead walking through the winding sidewalks between green spaces, parks, and playing fields purposefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you even looking to find them?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know where he’ll be,” Helene explained, rolling her eyes lightly, “He’s going to be by the white trail through the woods-by the yarrows,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Flowers? White, small, grow in clusters?” Helene tried, rattling off more details as if Marya would suddenly understand what she was talking about, “It’s like, 41 inches by 47-104 centimeters by 119, if you will. A good space between it and the trails, but still very visible,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s oddly specific,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s how big the spot it is,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why there?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know my brother, obviously,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Marya constantly seemed to be baffled by something related to this girl, and today it was how confident she was in absolutely everything. There were no surprises. No shocking moments. Nothing. No faltering mentally-it scared her to think how easily Helene could have her way with things if this somehow went south. If something went wrong with Anatole and Natasha, she’d-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So did you give me a profile? Who’s the manly man I’m being today,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t tell her much,” Marya murmured distractedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m coming up with the name then. It’s going to be Brad Hasselhoff,” Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>got Marya’s attention back. She did a double take, watching as Helene smirked, awaiting a response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely not,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t be named Brad?!” Helene gasped dramatically, though it quickly faded after a contemplative pause. “Okay, actually, you’d never go on a date with a kid named Brad. You’d kill them, probably…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you have against Brads?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brads, Chads, same thing,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you have against Chads?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to talk to Natasha about your lack of internet humor. It’s seriously a problem,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you even close with Natasha?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More or less,” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand, not indulging Marya with details any further. “What’s my name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something normal, please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daniel Adam Devine-Young,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s particular,” Helene looked plenty amused with herself, and from what Marya learned about Helene that could mean a colorful array of things. “Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is for me to know. A little easter egg thing,” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is terrifying coming from you,” All she got was a wink in return. Marya was about to continue her thought but stopped short because Helene took a very sharp left, nearly bulldozing her in the process. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re setting up,” Helene told Marya under her breath, tapping the fabric between her fingers. “Anatole takes forever to do everything and forgets at least four things at the house any time he goes somewhere-I thought he’d be late,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. He really likes this one. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Helene didn’t let the realization show on her face, instead guiding Marya off towards a very large hill that was too high up for their younger relatives to be looking at. She didn’t mention that this was her favorite spot in the park to watch the sunset, figuring the redhead could figure out why for herself later. Instead, just as they reached the top, the brunette sighed, gesturing with her head towards where she could see stark blonde hair contrasting against the grass and yarrows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can see them. And everything else, really,” A soft smile and even more gentle hands laid the picnic blanket out. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Candlelit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Under the changing sky, Marya and Helene never realized just how much they don't know about each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is just a grandiose of us finding some stuff out about Marya, and the gay panic it instills in her. It's long but it's a little frazzled, because I jusy realllyyy wanted to post today!<br/>Also, I heard it was Thanksigivign today?? Thanks to this amazing fandom and all who have contributed to it and made me fall deeper and deeper in love with everyone in it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This, Marya decided, was completely and utterly terrifying. Dear lord, she was actually enjoying herself. And that, above almost everything, was not supposed to happen. She was not supposed to be this intrigued by Helene’s scarily accurate predictions as to the date they were watching over. People said the Kuragine duo knew each other well enough it bordered on strange, but this well surpassed that boundary. Still, Marya could have listened to Helene talk forever. </p><p>This wasn’t supposed to happen. </p><p>This was supposed to suck. She was supposed to text Pierre, and say she hated Helene, and that the girl was a hassle to be around. She was supposed to go into school the next day and glare at her when she entered study hall. Yet right now Helene was splayed out on the picnic mat, occasionally offering a narration of what she suspected Anatole was doing. Marya would occasionally question her, just out of pure curiosity; Marya loved Natasha with all of her heart and soul, but there closeness never resembled something like this. </p><p>“You need to have more faith in Natasha,” The comment came after about sixty seconds of silence, and Marya immediately turned her head, brows knitted together. Helene didn’t take back what she said. “You are watching her like a hawk. Relax,” </p><p>“I am relaxed,” Her protest was immediate. </p><p>Helene scoffed. “No, you are not,”</p><p>“Yes I am,” </p><p>“You are so tense my muscles are in pain just looking at you,” </p><p>Marya scowled, but had no retort to offer. Maybe it was about time for her to take back her thoughts. She preferred Helene when her observations were kept to herself. </p><p>“I do not trust your brother,” </p><p>“You don’t trust Natasha either,” </p><p>“You are a pain in the ass to argue with, you know that?” Helene frowned, but the displeasure on her face stayed for a maximum of three seconds before it was wiped away and Helene changed it to a smirk. </p><p>“Natasha wouldn’t take to a quick advance, anyway,” Helene noted after a moment with more confidence than Marya had. Then again, Helene didn’t speak unless she was certain her words were the right ones. A perfectly manicured hand gave Marya’s bicep a gentle touch, “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep fretting,”</p><p>“Natasha is a romantic,” Marya huffed, looking pointedly far off so she didn’t have to see if Helene noticed her breath quicken. </p><p>“This date is more romantic than theirs. She won’t be <em> too </em>wooed,” Marya thought better than to tell Helene all the words Natasha had said about him just a few days prior. Marya may have trusted her perspective, but she didn’t trust her mouth. And Marya was not looking for any reason to inflate Anatole’s ego. Plus, what Helene had just said provoked plenty of questions on its own. </p><p>“You think this is romantic?” </p><p>Helene’s response was immediate. “Oh, most definitely,” She gestured down to the assortment of a candle, blanket and the basket. Marya cleared her throat awkwardly. “No one platonically brings roses to a picnic,” </p><p>Marya had partially meant to, but now didn’t seem like the time to bring it up. Now seemed like the time to pretend it was all part of the plan. She simply nodded, turning her attention back to where Anatole and Natasha sat somewhere off in a small patch of flowers. “Your brother didn’t bring flowers,” Helene clicked her tongue. </p><p>“Our father would have found out he went on a date if he did,”</p><p>“Your parents don’t know?” Helene’s smile upturned at the corner of her mouth as she shook her head in silence, eyes back on their relatives curiously. “How on earth did he pull that off?” </p><p>“Kuragins don’t get caught,” </p><p>“You scare me,” </p><p>Helene laughed, and Marya turned to look at her. For a moment, fear constricted her chest. Against the warm light hitting the side of her face, eyes turning almost amber under the light, and a smile that white, Helene may have been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. This was bad. This was so, so bad.</p><p>But clearly, Helene had just seen something possibly worse. Her eyes went wide and Helene and in all of two seconds, the brunette plucked one of the roses from the bouquet, turning her head towards Marya. She outstretched it for Marya to take. Through a smile: “Take the flower,”. Marya just blinked at her. “Natasha is looking at us, so if you could-” Marya didn’t need to be told twice. </p><p>“Did she see you?”</p><p>“We made eye contact,” Helene didn’t seem worried, though.</p><p>“Did she recognize you?”</p><p>“Nah,” Helene gave a dismissive wave of her hand.  “She gave me a thumbs up, so I really doubt she did,”</p><p>“That girl…” Marya pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing slightly to herself as she twisted the rose between her fingers. </p><p>“When you find an actual boyfriend in place of good ol’ Daniel, you better warn the guy,” Marya gave a tight-lipped smile, but didn’t correct her. Helene’s friends didn’t seem like the accepting type. She’d seen some questionable things-heard some questionable things too. Helene never contributed, but she never spoke against it, either. It was just one of many things no one knew the popular girl’s opinion on. “She wants to see you happy. It’s cute,” Helene gave a small, fond smile, looking down at her hands. Helene wondered what that was like sometimes. </p><p>“She has a good heart,” Marya noted, and Helene knew damn well why she said it, but opted to say nothing more on the matter. They were still trying to find balance-testing waters and identifying what made the other tick. Helene had always been cautious-she liked to make sure things were safe-making a scene only was allowed to happen on her terms. </p><p>“What did your parents think when you left with a whole ass bouquet of flowers?” Helene asked as she grabbed the lighter and candle with steady hands. The pause was filled by the sound of the lighter clicking several times. It worked the first time, and the second, but Helene simply pretended it didn’t so she didn’t have to deal with the realization she may have overstepped. </p><p>In truth, Marya was less bothered and more wondering how to address the answer. “Oh, I kind of have my own place…” The flame ignited the wick with a gentle glow. Helene didn’t quite meet her eye. “We are on good terms and everything...it was just...easier, I guess?” </p><p>Marya didn’t know the reason. She often wondered if there was one she didn’t know about. If they just were sick of her at the age of sixteen, or if she’d been a problem in some way. If she’d done something to upset them-what it was. They let her live alone: a luxury at first, but the older she got the more she began to question why. She was not even Natasha’s parent, and the thought of giving the girl an apartment of her own bordered on horrifying. </p><p>The gentle swat of Helene’s hand on her shoulder caused Marya to jump. “Who bites their cuticles?!” Helene scrunched her nose, grabbing Marya’s hand and investigating her nails intently. </p><p>“Me, apparently,” Marya had never even realized that habit until Helene just pointed it out to her. </p><p>“Between your poor jaw and your fingers, I think you need to meditate,” </p><p>“You meditate?” Given the nature of Helene’s entire existence, it was hard to believe. </p><p>Helene scoffed. “God no. I don’t have time for that,” </p><p>“Yet you have time to stalk your brother?”</p><p>“I will always make time for my brother,” Helene told her honestly, sighing gently. Fondly, maybe. “Number one on the priority list,” </p><p>“What’s number two, then?” Helene shrugged. </p><p>“My friends, probably,” Marya gave a small nod, letting Helene lean back on her elbows with a huff. “What about you?” </p><p>“Grades, sports, mental health, family,”</p><p>“In that order?” Helene didn’t fully understand the concept of voluntarily caring that much about grades. Maybe it was the fact she was practically desensitized to it, or maybe it was just that she had a degree of confidence her father could get her into most universities she’d ever want to attend. Marya opted not to tell her it was the one thing holding her together at this point. Marya would have nodded, had she been given the time. Had her phone not began to vibrate violently. </p><p> </p><p><b>Natalie: </b>The boy is HOT omfg</p><p><b>Natalie: </b>both of our boys</p><p><b>Natalie: </b>Send me a pic!! So cute omg omg omg!!!</p><p> </p><p>“Everything okay?” The redhead glanced up at concerned eyes. </p><p>“Natasha is a spam texter,” Marya answered, frowning at the phone screen. “I need you to take a picture with me,” Helene didn’t refute, if anything seeming plenty enthused by the request. She pressed both her hands into the blanket, leaning forward half over Marya’s lap to try and get a look at what was so distressing. </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>“Natasha is asking,” </p><p>“Can I flex my muscles?” Marya scoffed. </p><p>“You are drowning in my sweatshirt. There is nothing to show,” </p><p>“Daniel has wonderful shoulders,” </p><p>“This is serious,” Helene let out an exaggerated groan but abided by Marya’s implied request and toned it down the slightest bit. Her middle and pointer finger gently pressed the top of Marya’s phone down for a better angle, taking a moment to try and decipher the words upside down. </p><p>“You see what she said?” </p><p>“I did read it, yes,”</p><p>“She called me hot,” The smirk on Helene’s lips made Marya contemplate throwing the candle at her a lot less than it should have. Alternatively, the redhead narrowed her eyes, letting Helene’s carefree aura continue as it seemed to naturally the moment eyes were not solely on her. It was a subject of intrigue-one Marya took a note of for questions at a later date-yet for now she settled on the rolling of her eyes. </p><p>There was no way she could enjoy a best friend’s ex. No matter what permissions Pierre gave, boundaries were boundaries. Marya was a disciplined person by nature. She found herself giving internal scoldings as Helene’s lips moved to form words she was no longer paying attention to. </p><p>It only occurred to her the other girl was talking to her when she felt a touch on her hand. One that was cautious and light. Marya glanced up and met brown, widened eyes. She was still talking, though Marya only heard the last bit of it through her musings as to what color Helene’s eyes actually were. Sometimes a midnight brown, sometimes amber, sometimes-</p><p>“-Really sorry. I totally would never fuck your cousin. I didn’t mean to-”</p><p>“What?” Marya had a feeling the girl had been talking aloud for a while, because that was certainly an odd fragment without any context. Part of Marya was curious, and the other part knew better than to try and make a girl who was slightly high and trying to creepily note her brother’s every move attempt to justify whatever the hell she was going on about. “You’re fine. I zoned out,”</p><p>Helene welcomed the change easily. “You? Zoning out?” She threw both her hands in the air. “It’s like I don’t know you anymore!” A beat, then more to herself than Marya, “Actually, to be fair, I have never really known you, so…”</p><p>“No one can focus every second of every day,”</p><p>“If anyone could, it would be you, Miss Valedictorian-Ivy-League-Honors-Lady,”</p><p>“I haven’t even applied to colleges yet,” Marya pointed with a raised brow, though pointed her camera upwards nonetheless. “Turn your head,” </p><p>“Why?” </p><p>“Because she can’t see your face and from the side you have a good jawline. It’s convincing,” </p><p>“Only from the side?” Marya scoffed, though continued to focus the camera nonetheless. </p><p>“Look busy,”</p><p>“Is this a photoshoot now?”</p><p>“Kuragin.” Marya’s voice got the slightest bit hard; she learned from her few sessions trying to tutor the girl actual harshness just made her freeze up or get worse, and gentleness was just as ineffective. The difference was now there was a ghost of amusement still on her features as Helene leaned over to the corner of the blanket to straighten it out. “Thank you,” </p><p>“Do I look good?” Marya didn’t want to chance giving Helene an ego the size of her brother’s, so simply handed the phone over to the girl, who looked at the picture a lot longer than Marya would’ve anticipated. There was a semblance of suspicion, maybe concern, before Helene broke it by handing it back to the redhead with her brows furrowed. </p><p>“You’re into photography?” Marya shrugged. “You had some cool shots in there,” </p><p>Marya didn’t expect that one. “Oh, um, thank you?”</p><p>“Sorry,” Helene’s smile was sheepish, fingers hurriedly finding the seam of the blankets the were sitting on and beginning to pluck at them, “I wasn’t snooping. They were just right there,” </p><p>“I don’t go anywhere so my pictures aren;’ interesting or anything…” </p><p>“Well, if you ever need someone to go drag you to some cool places, I’m sure I can find some,” Helene offered, studying Marya’s face intently. She was typing, and more than likely hadn’t even heard what the brunette said by the noncommittal hum of agreement. </p><p>Helene thought that was probably for the best. </p><p>Marya had heard her. Heard her loud and clear and immediately panicked. She made a promise. She was more honorable than she was intrigued. She had to be. “Sorry, what did you say?” Marya picked up her head after the text was sent. </p><p>“I said there are some good places you could check out around.” The gesture all around them was relatively dismissive, though when she leaned her chin into her hands, eyes glittered in a way that was more vibrant than even the sun as it set behind her. “What kind of camera do you use?” </p><p>Conversation and curiosities were shared between them like friends who had not seen each other in years. It was odd to Marya, to have known Helene so long without knowing a thing <em> about </em>her. Even in their conversation, loud and extroverted Queen Bee was doing most of the asking. She had a way of smoothly navigating questions and answers only where she wanted them. Part of Marya wondered how often it worked without anyone noticing as she did it about the topic of dogs this time. Then again, there was a chance they were doing exactly as Marya did: noting it in her head and thinking of it as an excuse to use later as to why she most certainly was hateful of the Kuragin’s presence. </p><p>Another part of her wondered if this was how Helene buried tens of students’ reputations six feet under in the short year and a half she’d been at the school. </p><p>That part of her was losing this battle. </p><p>She learned a little bit about Helene’s hatred of the cheerleading coach, and of a few interesting rumors she’d heard about herself, or that her favorite color was very specifically chartreuse green. She in turn learned more about Marya than the redhead had told anyone in such a short period of time. There was something <em> about her, </em>something dangerous, and something alluring in all the ways marya was confident would bite her in the ass later. It was impossible to focus on any of it with the way Helene’s smile blinded her, and the intoxicating scent of jasmine every time Helene leaned in close to get a look at a picture Marya was referencing. </p><p>Helene made conversation easy when she was paying attention, yet when she wasn’t Marya didn’t interrupt. She was usually drawn in by something Anatole was doing. Another horrifying realization struck as she realized Helene was doing a better job at this; was it really her fault Helene was this distracting to look at, though?</p><p>“I think they’re packing up,” Marya glanced down the hill. </p><p>“Already?”</p><p>“The sun already set,” Helene gestured upwards with a nod of her head; Marya hadn’t even noticed. “There isn’t much more for him to do,” </p><p>“Which means our job is done,” Marya needed to get out. She needed to leave, take a deep breath, and pull herself together. She wasn’t doing this. She couldn’t be doing this. “I’ll drive you back to your car?” </p><p>Helene’s expression shifted for a second, though only that before she gave a nod, blowing out the candle and handing it off to the redhead while she tried again to hilariously conquer the large picnic blanket. Marya didn’t even have the time to decide what the facial expression was before Helene was back on her feet, navigating them down the hill. </p><p>“Did you ever run track?” Helene asked as she peered over her shoulder. </p><p>“No…?” </p><p>“They make you run up and down it for conditioning,” Marya could see remnants of a nostalgic smile forming on the lips of a girl who had a lot more stories than she told that night. Marya was aware of it, and thus waited to see if Helene would say more. “There would be a lot of bloodstains. Scraped knees, all that,” Helene continued walking. “Don’t know if they ever quit trying to get young kids to do it,”</p><p>“I didn’t see you as a track and field person,” </p><p>“I hate running, so yeah, that checks out,” Marya’s feet hit the paved path after several strides. “I’m content with the stuff I do now,”</p><p>“Which is…?”</p><p>“Cheer, gymnastics, the stereotypical,” Helene waved it off with an easier explanation than Marya imagined. Then again, she supposed it was true; Helene had always been the type to own whatever words were thrown at her. Cheer was obvious by the varsity jacket and rumors alone, but the gymnastics surprised her the slightest bit; the school didn’t have a team, which she supposed explained the slightest but about her allegedly busy schedule. “Photography, volleyball on your end I know. Anything that wouldn’t surprise me?”</p><p>“Why do you know I play-”</p><p>“Marya, dear, I know everyone,” Helene rolled her eyes. “The fact you thought I wouldn’t know is a bit insulting,” </p><p>“Alright, what else do you know about me?” Marya challenged, and did not expect the fact Helene looked like she had been hoping for this question. </p><p>“Well, you know nothing about flowers. And you suck at science, which kind of go hand in hand, so-”</p><p>“<em>Hey. </em>”</p><p>“You do,” Helene insisted, giving no room for protest before continuing or explaining the correlation. “And you probably know philosophy. If you’re friends with Pierre you <em> totally </em>at least tolerate philosophy. And you’re obvious good at history because you are stuck tutoring me in it, so…” </p><p>“I am not stuck,”</p><p>“Yes you are <em> but that </em>is beside the point,” Helene rushed out to make sure she continued her list. “You scare the freshmen, and men-which I think is both quite impressive and enjoyable, by the way-” Marya chuckled. “Also your voice is very loud. But it’s distinct. I like it,” </p><p>“Hm.” The elder of the two was uncertain how to respond. “You were not wrong,”</p><p>“Of course I wasn’t. I’m always right,” </p><p>---</p><p>Marya knew how the dates always ended in the movies. But given this was Helene Kuragin, and most certainly not a date, she was at a bit of a loss. Helene was all giggles and smiles the entire car ride. The journey was not a long one, and there was a certain pull in her chest she didn’t recognize when Helene clambered out. Marya, almost by instinct, hopped out as well, not expecting the hoodie to be taken off and placed in her arms. </p><p>She looked different when she took the hoodie off. </p><p>She certainly didn’t look like a half-assed boyfriend disguise, but she didn’t look like the Helene she thought she knew just hours ago, either. She looked...at ease. Peaceful. Helene had been seen smiling and chatting with friends thousands of times. But her smile never quite looked like this. Brown eyes were squinted slightly when she laughed about something Marya said she had long since forgotten. It wasn’t the concealed giggles and pointing Marya was so used to. Standing in front of her, for what felt like the first time, was an actual human being. Less porcelain and gold. Less performance. More fresh air and the flowers she adored, or the scent of the candle long since blown out. More human. A little more crazy than the redhead expected of her, but warm. Bouncing around and hyper, but warm. </p><p>She offered a somewhat shy smile as she leaned into Marya’s space slightly to tap Marya’s phone screen. “Before you go home, you better have some good words to say about Daniel,” </p><p>“I’m sure I can think of a few convincing ones,”</p><p>“Also, in order to help with your conviction, you should probably change my name in that phone of yours,”</p><p>“To…?” </p><p>“I dunno,” Helene stated, but the small songish lilt to her words made it sound like she did. “I think he’d go by his initials. Seems like that kind of guy. D-A-D-Y. It’s long, but it works,” </p><p>“Alright I guess,” Marya murmured, beginning to comply much to Helene’s amusement. “Why?”</p><p>“So you can call me Daddy<em>, </em>”</p><p>Helene turned towards her car before Marya could even register what she said. Musical laughter was the last Marya heard before rubbing her hands down her face. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Ribbons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Helene doesn't know how to say she had a nice time. The result answers questions Marya didn't know she had.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah, so it begins. Next chapter is probably just going to be a lot of emotions. The good, the bad, the ugly. I hope you all are still enjoying!</p>
<p>I'm sorry if this is a funky chapter. My brain is gone tbh<br/>I am getting into the last week before our break, as I'm sure a lot of you are! Stay safe and stay sane you guys. I appreciate all of you so much &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Helene, who had at one point been skipping through the park and stumbling over an oversized picnic blanket had been lost to the masses. It created an odd sense of falsehood Marya knew, but never had the ability to fully acknowledge before. She knew she did not trust Helene-that most people didn't-yet she never realized the why. Never realized that every step Helene took inside of that school was deliberate. She thought about each turn of her head, each question she asked, and similarly about what others thought as she passed by them. The delibracy was not alarming in its principle, but in the fact Helene showed up in front of her and held out a small box. She sat down with ease, but leaned just the slightest bit forward on the study hall table, anticipating Marya's reaction. </p>
<p>Helene thought about everything. Whatever this was had a purpose, and when it came to a Kuragin, that meant just about nothing. There was no reassurance behind it. No caution, either. All Marya could draw was that Helene gave her a box and wanted her to open it. "There is something in it," Impossible to read, as usual. As Helene's school usual. </p>
<p>Helene resumed her routine and thus so did Marya. "One could assume such, yes," </p>
<p>Looking back, she was not sure she was ever able to read Helene. The thought was not a settling one as her fingers toiled over the ribbon, lips pressed firmly together. Helene watched silently, assessing Marya piece by piece. The lone noise she made was the pointed clearing of her throat, and a finger flicking towards the box again. The Kuragins weren't known for patience. "I can't just sit here waiting in anticipation for an hour," Helene declared. Her elbows remained rested on the table. </p>
<p>Marya couldn't decide what she thought the item was going to be. "What is this?" her words </p>
<p>"A box with a ribbon on it,"</p>
<p>"Kuragin." Her eyes narrowed yet Helene simply smiled at her with that smile Marya had known for years. In a similar fashion, she didn't answer. </p>
<p>"I brought you something," Helene restated, fumbling awkwardly over her words for a moment before settling on, "Consider it a thank you," Well, that was a twist. </p>
<p>"You're thanking me?" The brunette nodded. "For?"</p>
<p>"The tutoring...babysitting...whatever it is," She grabbed Marya by the wrist, pulling her hand close and guiding it onto the satin ties. "As someone who tutors her brother, I imagine how frustrating I must be," </p>
<p>Marya didn't have time to process what she said because she was more focused on widening her eyes, head shaking insistently. "You're not frustrating," That may have been partially a lie, but there was no necessity in telling the girl that. Her goal had never been to make Helene think she was irritating. </p>
<p>"No need to lie, ma cherie," </p>
<p>"Your lack of ability to pronounce things in french is frustrating,"</p>
<p>"Open it," Helene insisted again, but Marya took the box and moved it to the other side of the table. Now it was Helene's turn to narrow her eyes. </p>
<p>"I'll open it after you do your work,"</p>
<p>"Just take my thanks, damn," Helene muttered begrudgingly, though her voice still had a twinge of playfulness as her hands moved to sift through her bag. It gave Marya a moment to think things through- to look at the box and wonder what it was: It was probably just small enough to fit in Helene's school bag, but definitely made noise as she shifted it. Wrapped in gold to complete perfection and tied with a satin burgundy ribbon, it was a bit flashy for Marya to be carrying around.  She mulled over her options of when she could open it; maybe at the very end of the class time so Helene would actually do her work for once instead of trying to banter as a distraction, but maybe Helene's curiosity would distract her even more. As entertaining as the girl had been, this was still her responsibility and job to unfold, and the day Marya slacked in any expectation department was the day hell would freeze over, or the day she'd know what Helene's lips-</p>
<p>
  <em>Wait. What?</em>
</p>
<p>Nevermind. Nevermind. A joke. </p>
<p>"Marya, is everything okay?" Marya shot her head up to see Helene with her brows furrowed, head tilted to the side. Seeing Marya looking absolutely mortified seemingly out of nowhere was concerning to say the least. Her mouth was hung open, eyes wide as saucers. "Your face is very red," Helene pointed out the obvious apprehensively, touching the back of her hand to the redhead's forehead. "Well, you're not hot, so-"</p>
<p>"You said you tutor your brother?" She choked out, pulling away from the Kuragin's touch. She didn't know why those were the words she came up with, but it was what she settled on. </p>
<p>Helene needed a moment to calibrate, eyes suspicious. "Yeah...?" </p>
<p>"In what?" </p>
<p>"Whatever he's struggling with," Helene didn't really know how to answer that, evident by the hesitation in her voice. "Math, science, history, english, I don't know..." </p>
<p>Marya’s grappling for something to say ended up actually gripping her attention,  arms slowly crossing, "So you won't do your homework, but you'll help your brother?" </p>
<p>Helene laughed softly as if it were an absurd suggestion. "Well, I can't do both," </p>
<p>"I am fairly certain you can," </p>
<p>"I appreciate your faith in me, but I beg to differ," And that part of Helene-the one she couldn't decide whether she enjoyed or hated-made an appearance once more. The redhead had begun to wonder if perhaps Helene just liked the struggle. Or seeing Marya irritated-but if she had, one would've thought this argumentative confidence would have come up often the day before. Whatever the day before was, Marya was still trying to get a handle on. However Helene had a talent for keeping Marya on her toes. By the time she had been given a rest from the mental gymnastics, days would've passed. "He requires actual assistance," </p>
<p>"You don't?"</p>
<p>"I don't believe you have done anything except stare at me and accuse me of plagiarism that one time," Marya scoffed. </p>
<p>"Maybe you ended up black out drunk more times than just the first," </p>
<p>"I was mildly intoxicated," Helene protested back, leaning back in her seat in an attempt to get more comfortable. Or to at least look comfortable under the heat of the interrogation and where the topic was headed. Helene was doing what she could to side-track, but Marya was more unpredictable than she seemed. Helene liked to know everything about everyone, and her tendency to circle back to things after Helene thought she was in the clear was less welcomed than she let on. "Can you blame me?" </p>
<p>"Yes," </p>
<p>Helene crinkled her nose, eyes squinting. "You get so fiery. All this over a gift?" </p>
<p>"No, it's over the fact you will help Anatole but you won't help yourself," </p>
<p>Helene paused. It was one of the first times she'd seen Helene hesitate. Marya thought for a horrifying moment she broke her like a small child's toy. Her lips moved to form an apology, but Helene was already speaking, "Anatole needs all the help he can get. His failure is distracting. My parents are strict about grades," The words didn't fully make sense in the choppy way of which she said them, especially not from Helene, but Marya pulled out the basics and gave a skeptical glance. </p>
<p>"Yet you've been failing history,"</p>
<p>"Yet Anatole hasn't," Helene pointed out, clearing her throat and flinging her boots onto the table where notebook probably should have been. "It's a balance,"</p>
<p>"It isn't a balance when you only work on your brother's things?" Marya pointed out incredulously. </p>
<p>Helene didn't particularly like being on the defensive. She never had, yet she could play what she was given; there was a reason in terms of social hierarchy she had gotten this far. "It is one class, Marya. And I warned you I was a busy person. Helping your relatives isn't a crime. You know that," Marya sighed and Helene tilted her head slightly. "I mean, we did just check in on Natasha and Anatole, didn't we?" The redhead swiped Helene's feet off the table and onto the floor. "I didn't think a thank you would lead to a lecture on time management, which, ironically, is cutting into education time as we speak," Marya knew after just a brief glance in the direction of a raised brow that Helene had won the battle. Long fingers ran through her hair, staring towards the clock with a sigh. "Am I wrong?"</p>
<p>Marya knew what Helene wanted, but wouldn't indulge her. To be defeated was one thing. To admit defeat to a Kuragin was another. </p>
<p>"I didn't know you liked studying so much you actually suggested it, but since you desire it so much, you have a paper due next week, don't you?"</p>
<p>It was weird to think they had fallen into some kind routine with one another. There was an essence of flexibility to the times of it all, but there always came a point where the pair fell into comfortable silence. Marya was known for being loud. Loud about opinions, injustices, and voice in general. There was no mistaking her for anyone else even if it was on the other end of the hall. Helene had never been quiet in her life. People strived to talk <em>to </em>her-fought to do so, even-and a dull moment was never associated with her name. If she was not being spoken to, her eyes were finding the person on the outskirts of any given room to strike up a conversation with. Quite the conversationalist, it honestly wasn't as shocking Helene ended up with Pierre at one point as people made it out to be. Marya and Helene never ceased to stand out in a room; it was funny, almost, how being together rendered them silent. There was occasional tapping on the table or distracted humming, and a quiet scolding to get back on track without looking up from notes of her own. but peace had been found at that table. A gentle equilibrium of forces and power causing a steady wave of peace. For once, the calm didn't seem to be before the storm. </p>
<p>The bell rung and Helene was gone before Marya even had a chance to look at what the girl had left wrapped in burgundy. </p>
<p>Marya stood up, but only saw the silhouette of a retreating figure quickly enveloped in their peers. Marya glanced down at the box now in her arms, puffing out her cheeks. Bodies moved all around her in swarms, yet all she could focus on was the small print lettering she'd seen Helene use only when she was desperately bored:</p>
<p>
  <em>'Next Date? Lmk :)' </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Wrapped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anatole gets to work, and Marya opens the first present she's had in a while.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy belated New Years guys! Let's hope 2021 treats us well!<br/>I also really, really love comments &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anatole was an unbalanced, flippant kid, unreasoning to an extreme, though by no means stupid. He knew exactly why Helene was sitting in the choir room pacing around the room with her face in her hands. He watched her without speaking for a long while,  still red in the face from the argument they were in the middle of. He knew what buttons to push and when. His decisions were absurd, but his observations were not.</p><p>So he waited for Helene to cool off. Watched her counting something on her fingers and gazing up at the ceiling periodically as her feet moved. His sister was good at suppressing emotions for all it was worth,  but Anatole had lived with her all his life: long enough to find what made her tick when she wouldn't do as he wanted. He'd soften another time when he really needed it. Right now, he was plenty fine frustrating her until she bent and taking breaks when she was about to snap. </p><p>He waited, letting the comfort of silence hit Helene until her shoulders finally untensed. "I didn't expect this to upset you this bad," Anatole declared, though his voice reflected just how unphased he was. </p><p>"Why <em>wouldn't </em>you expect it?" She snapped, refusing to look at him. "Anyone else! You could have picked anyone else!" Helene whipped around full force on her heels, throwing her arms up. Their eyes locked and for the briefest moment, it seemed as if Anatole were the calm one. He watched her, eyebrows raised but chuckling a bit to himself at the idea. </p><p>"You are being a little on the dramatic side, don't you think?" Helene's stare easily could have killed a man; had Anatole not been so used to receiving it, there was a chance he'd be dead on the ground already. Helene didn't speak, letting the intensity in her eyes and clenched jaw speak for her. Helene's emotions were stunted to an extreme, but Anatole had always been the one to figure out how to pull them out of her. She'd never get mad at him-not to the extent their father did, anyway-and thus he found some kind of amusement in the rare flaring of her temper. "I think you need to calm down," Anatole declared after a long moment, watching her eyes narrow. </p><p>"Have I taught you nothing, Anatole? Don't tell girls to calm down: it's infuriating!" She snapped at him, watching her younger brother raise his hands in surrender. "I need to talk to Dolokhov about you. He wasn't supposed to give you his attitude," She said his name with a certain emphasis he couldn't understand right away, so opted not to think about it. Instead, he thought about options. Anatole didn't take no as an answer, and definitely not from Helene. </p><p>"Sister, it was an observation," He pointed out lightly, "I am not asking you for anything more than one more date," Anatole avoided looking at her, sifting through his backpack instead. </p><p>"I can't pull this on Marya of all people, Anatole! Are you crazy?!" </p><p>"First of all, you are yelling," Anatole declared with infuriating calm, a knowing glint to his eyes. His sister was not a fan of losing it in the slightest: her volume control included. A small, subtle smirk made its way onto his lips as she took a breath, staring towards the door then the floor. "Second of all, I don’t see why not," </p><p>Helene opened her mouth, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was no reason she could give. She'd done the dirty work time and time again. It was such a simple statement, yet that had been what froze her up for a moment. She didn't know the answer. Anatole stared at her for only a second, giving an exaggerated, slow shrug of his shoulders to indicate he noticed. Quickly after he went back to his bag. </p><p>"How did you even find out I was involved in this?" She finally relented the slightest bit. Finally let her shoulders hunch as she glanced back at him, then at the ziploc bag he offered to her. He was difficult, and he was an ass, but he always won. A darker part of Helene's mind briefly wondered why she even tried. </p><p>It was clear Anatole knew this, too. "You want?" He asked first and foremost, shaking it as if to regain her attention. There was a small smirk on his lips as she took it, opening the bad and taking one of the cookies between her fingers, ripping a piece off; Helene wasn't the kind of person who liked to make a mess of things she shouldn't be doing. "Natasha brought up that Marya was freaking out and that you talked," He shrugged, taking the bag back and eating one for himself. "And then she mentioned Marya was on a date. Which, let's be honest, no one would take Marya out on a date," Helene frowned. </p><p>"That's-"</p><p>"She's called Dragon. Who, aside from you, would ever pull that?" </p><p>Helene considered it for a moment, taking another bite and praying the damn thing would make this conversation less tedious. She didn't want to think about Marya's motivations in any way more in depth than she did anyone else she spoke to. Thinking more than surface ends to means meant there was a chance this would spiral. Helene did not <em>do </em>spiraling. Which, ironically, must've been what she was doing as Anatole stood up slowly. </p><p>"I think I liked arguing with you better than watching you combust," </p><p>"Shush," </p><p>"So...?" Anatole's game was never sympathy. His voice upturned slightly as she grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around, "Natasha?" </p><p>"I need time to think about it,"</p><p>"How is a few hours?" Her eyes darkened. "By 7pm?" </p><p>"You have a paper due tonight, idiot," </p><p>"A negotiation, then?" Anatole proposed, giving a sweet smile, "If I write my paper, and I submit it on time tonight, will you help me tomorrow?" </p><p>"That isn't a negotiation. That's two positives for you and I gain absolutely nothing,"</p><p>Anatole pouted, widening his eyes slightly as he slid a hand down to hers. "But you wouldn't want Papa to be mad at me, would you?" </p><p>------</p><p>Ten Minutes. </p><p>Marya spent ten minutes staring wide eyed at this wrapped thing in front of her, but looking at the clock she didn't have much more time left before the rest of the group would come. A nail tapped over the ribbon, frowning. Helene had been known to have a plan and reason for everything, and a large part of her refused to believe it may have been a genuine act. Pierre broke up with her for a reason, didn't he? Was it the elaborate nature of everything she did, or maybe the sheer paranoia that apparently happened when Helene gave you things?</p><p>She didn't want to unwrap it. In fact, the concept of doing so was the slightest bit terrifying. What if it was horrible? What if it was cruel? But dear lord, what if it was <em>nice? </em></p><p>Marya hadn't received gifts in years. Occasionally Pierre and Mary would get her something for Christmas if she did not beg them enough not to. Something about them felt too nostalgic for her taste. She didn't like envisioning herself at Christmas with her family, and she didn't like picturing birthdays or celebrations.  The images that played in her head were more bittersweet than they were fond, but Marya did not have the heart in her to replace those last memories. Her one hand laid flat over the soft part of the gift, taking a deep breath. She couldn't recall a time ever in her life that she received a gift without a holiday being the reason. Helene's...thing was not for Christmas and not for her birthday, and she was not opening it inside the smaller apartment with mauve painted walls and golden tassles for decoration. </p><p>She'd always loved the shade of red the wrapping paper was-it reminded her of that old apartment just outside of Moscow that she stayed in with her family for many years. But it was okay to make new memories, wasn't it?</p><p>Marya almost laughed at was now rested on the desk. The first was a rather full index card of words, all in every font Marya had ever seen from her, and Marya was quite sure it was half out of playful spite. The first words were '<em>idk if you can recognize this is me, or need to report me for plagiarism, but..." </em> Marya continued to read it, a small smile on her face. It was the closest semblance of what she'd seen from Helene the night before, stowed away underneath tape, wrapping paper, and ribbon. The whole thing read with painstaking sarcasm and comical arrogance, from mentions of her 'shameful' lack of awareness as to what kind of flower she was talking about to the disappointment she held in the redhead's unwillingness to participate in social media. She could hear each and every word of black ink in Helene's voice. What stood out most, however, was the last half line, scrawled out in pencil: "<em>sorry this is so big...Daniel dropped it off at school. How romantic, right? &lt;3 "</em></p><p>Still smiling a bit to herself, she put the card in her backpack quickly, staring down at the black hoodie as she unfolded it, revealing yet another but much smaller note. '<em>Just wanted to make sure I didn't kill your sweatshirt supply by stealing yours for a bit, because I still can't get over how soft it was and will definitely be stealing again...I also got you a book. For the future lol' </em>Marya scoffed aloud, folding the sweatshirt back up again with a substantially more amused smile than she would ever dare to admit. </p><p>A book about types of flowers. Of course. </p><p>In the moment it took Marya to pinch the bridge of her nose, Helene's timing was flawless as per usual. This time, it came in the form of her phone vibrating on the desk.</p><p><strong>Helene: </strong>youre welcome</p><p>Marya picked up her head in record speed, scanning the room and door for Helene. </p><p><strong>Dragon: </strong>Haha very funny. </p><p><strong>Helene: </strong>she hasnt said anything??</p><p><strong>Dragon: </strong>What are you talking about?</p><p><strong>Dragon: </strong>I was talking about the gift. </p><p><strong>Helene: </strong>oooohh! Glad you liked it!</p><p>The conversation ended there, because Sonya strode through the door with Mary, Natasha, and Pierre in tow. Marya wished it hadn't. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Gentle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A filler chapter, starring Natasha's dramatics, ft. Marya's constant questioning of the universe</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HI GUYS! I am so sorry I take forever to update sometimes...<br/>this is just a filler chapter, and it's pretty short, but I hope you guys still like it.<br/>Also, thank you for the support from my fellow writers and friends-you guys are the best &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marya knew very quickly that whatever Helene had done, Marya sure as hell was not going to thank her for it. That much was made abundantly clear by Natasha and Sonya's appearance, elbows hooked around each other's. Their closeness was not of concern, but the worry in Sonya's eyes and the tears in Natasha's were. Marya was immediately on her feet. "What happened?!" Natasha's only reaction was to sniffle and place her phone down on the nearest desk with exaggerated anguish. Her attention immediately focused fully on the black-haired girl as she buried her face in her hands. "Natasha what happened?" </p><p>"He cancelled!" Natasha practically wailed, the volume of her exclamation causing the few heads in the room to turn. Fortunately, Sonya was quick to shush her, offering apologetic smiles to whoever happened to look in their direction. "He cancelled, a-and I-"</p><p>"They had plans today?" Well, Helene didn't mention that. Sonya nodded. </p><p>"He rescheduled, Natasha, it's oka-" Whatever reassurances Sonya was trying to provide, Natasha didn't want to hear them, shy away from her best friend's touch with a pout. </p><p>Marya was almost impressed; Anatole was not an easy person to delay. She tried not to let it show on her face that it shocked her, instead giving a small but pointed sigh. "You know Anatole has a reputation, Natalie," Her eyes narrowed and Sonya's look was more offended on Natasha's behalf than anything. The redheaded woman had never been particularly gentle with her words.  "He is a reckless boy, and he does not think with his mind..." She really could have gone on for hours on the faults of this one particular boy alone, but boldly enough Sonya had been the one to interject, trying to spare Natasha some mercy. </p><p>"He said tomorrow maybe! It isn't forever! Maybe he has a test to study for, or-"</p><p>"What test could be more important than <em>love?!" </em>Natasha cried out, throwing her hands away from her face and into the air. Marya wondered if Sonya really had that much faith in him, or was just being optimistic. From the little Marya knew about Anatole, he was not one to care about school unless he was forced to, and Sonya had been the kind of person to notice those kinds of things in the people she didn't trust. In one knowing glance, the two redheads came to the conclusion Sonya's words had been a lie. Still, neither would mention it. Sonya could continue to reassure her of false hopes while she imagined the worst, and Marya would find out exactly what strings Helene managed to pull within the last twenty-four hours.</p><p><strong>Dragon: </strong>Tomorrow?</p><p><strong>Helene: </strong>listeb i cant worj miracles</p><p>Marya couldn't help clicking her tongue in disapproval, though her attention quickly shifted back to dear Natasha, frowning. "It is not the end of the world, Natalie," She pointed out, voice soft; to see Natasha in such dismay, even with its frequency, always made Marya's heart ache. </p><p>"It feels like it is..." came the grumbled response of the younger girl as she wiped her teary eyes with the heel of her palm, lower lip still trembling. </p><p>"Do you already have confirmed plans for tomorrow?" Marya questioned, an eyebrow raised. Natasha nodded, glancing down and continuing in her very exaggerated pouting. "So then what's..." Marya trailed off, locking eyes with Sonya in hopes the question came across without having to deal with the emotional consequences of whatever Natasha would react with. Sonya just gave a shrug, smiling, though it looked more like a wince than anything. Hell, if Helene could just delay for another day or two Natasha may have the offense to end it without any more intervention. </p><p>"She is not happy it is not today,"</p><p>"And you're both being insensitive!"</p><p>"Nat, what exactly are Marya and I supposed to do about this?"</p><p>"Comfort me!" </p><p>The two redheads locked eyes, taking a collective breath for the sake of decompression. Natasha had always been one for the waterworks and the intense emotions, but when Marya could see the new sweatshirt peeking out of her bag, it was quite difficult to put all of her energy into the youngest at the table's emotional extremes. She read back over her texts with Helene-the very few exchanged over the span of lunch, and sighed. <em>Couldn't Helene have given a better warning?!</em></p><p><strong>Pierre: </strong>I saw natasha in the hallway on the way to lunch today...</p><p>She was just about to lock her phone when a message from Pierre popped up on the screen. Marya sighed inwardly. </p><p><strong>Marya D: </strong>Crying?</p><p><strong>Pierre: </strong>crying<strong>...</strong></p><p>She took a brief glance upwards to get a look at Sonya's dismay and Natasha's distress, then back down at her phone.</p><p><strong>Pierre: </strong>everything okay?</p><p><strong>Pierre: </strong>do you want me to come?</p><p>Marya took one glance at Natasha, still tearing up and glowering, to type a response. </p><p><strong>Marya: </strong>Please. </p><p>Marya had always found the two of them got along. It made things easier, too, when Pierre seemed to be concerned over her to equal extent of the redheaded pair. She knew the girl would be in good hands with him, and enough focus would be on Natasha that Marya didn't have to look at him. Marya was a courageous woman, but she couldn't find it in herself to look at Pierre when his ex girlfriend's gift was in her bag. The woman she swore to hate, Pierre's ex, had been texted today before him. </p><p>He came to them in record time, glasses having fallen down his face in the quick journey over. Softness filled his eyes as he did not even grab a chair, moving immediately to kneel beside Natasha. She could hear him asking what was wrong, assuring her over and over that Anatole would never throw away an opportunity to be with such a lovely person without a reason. All that came to mind was imagining Pierre and Helene doing the same thing. What the hell went wrong? What did she do? Not value his love, push him away? There were so many answers she didn't have, and each one made her stomach toil. </p><p>Tomorrow. </p><p>She could find out tomorrow. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Helene has a paper to do and Anatole a date to prepare for. Plans are made instead.<br/>This chapter just felt most natural to be almost all dialogue, and is a set-up chapter, so I hope that works!<br/>Also, thank you to everyone who reads this thing and leaves kudos, because I am in shock and awe every time I realize people actually read my stuff? It's all very weird! I love you guys, thank you!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was funny almost how difficult Helene could be. </p>
<p>Almost. </p>
<p>Marya liked the challenge, but not when watching Helene kick back with a smirk on her lips was making her debate whether ripping out her hair or slamming a textbook into her face would do <em>something </em>to make Helene do the one thing tutoring was actually for. </p>
<p>"No," Helene laughed softly, raising her hands in surrender. "I'm not gonna do it yet," Marya looked at her with squinted eyes, mouth open slightly in disbelief.</p>
<p>"You do realize it's due in three hours right? The whole thing?"</p>
<p>Helene nodded, rubbing her palms together and closing her laptop with a self-satisfied smile. "Yes," </p>
<p>"And why would you do that?" Marya asked incredulously, giving a dramatic tilt of her head, hoping there would be some point in time the girl would realize how ridiculous this sounded. </p>
<p>"Because, if I do it before it is due, I will hate it and then have to do it again," The brunette explained easily and in a much more chipper voice than her level of stress should have allowed. "And what is the point of doing it once when you will then do it multiple times?" Her voice showed so little and it never ceased to confuse the slightly older student. </p>
<p>"So you're just going to hope you finish it on time??" </p>
<p>"Exactly," She gave a dutiful nod. "It's never failed me before,"</p>
<p>"I wouldn't be so confident; this is a <em>long </em>paper," Marya scowled, pointing at the page requirement. She didn't have the patience with Helene today. "You really think you can finish a 7 page paper in-"</p>
<p>"I probably could probably finish the entire intro as fast as I can finish TJ from the hockey team, Marya," Helene deadpanned, and Marya choked on air to the sound of Helene's laughter.</p>
<p>"Helene!" She croaked, planting her hand on her chest and coughing.. </p>
<p>"I'm kidding!" Marya gave her a look that suggested she wasn't too convinced and for a brief moment Helene scowled, but it was gone from her face just as fast. "It's just fun watching your reaction,"</p>
<p>"So you do this to terrorize me?"</p>
<p>"That is <em>exactly </em>why I do it," </p>
<p>"How sweet of you," Marya gave her a tight-lipped smile and a remark dripping in sarcasm. There was more anger in the fact than she imagined to be there at the fact this girl would do everything except what she was supposed to do. It could have been the sudden audacity, or the innate necessity Helene found in messing with her, but with how Anatole pushed the new date, Marya's patience was running thin. One boot on the table, and that was all it took. "Down," Helene squeaked as Marya slapped her boot off the table.</p>
<p>"How's that for a mood change..." She mumbled, frowning for a brief moment before clearing her throat. Marya anticipated a remark immediately, but Helene didn't offer one for quite a period of time. "Okay, fine, topic change then," </p>
<p>"You can't just-" Marya began to protest until Helene rested her elbows on the table, leaning forward slightly. </p>
<p>"Anatole and Natasha," Helene found the additional pairing had its benefits, and the documentation of their efficiency continued to grow as Marya's position mirrored hers. It always got Marya's attention. "Date tonight. The pizza place downtown on the corner," The redhead's eyes narrowed, "Look, as much as you seem to think I can control that menace, he's a-"</p>
<p>"What time?" </p>
<p>"Like, 5, I think?" Her brows furrowed when Marya pinched the bridge of her nose, "Why?"</p>
<p>"I have a game tonight," Helene gave her a look as if what she said was a convoluted conspiracy theory. It took several seconds before Helene seemed to understand why she thought it mattered. Immediately, her look softened i  understanding. </p>
<p>"No biggie. I can go and investigate," </p>
<p>"Right, and that won't look suspicious at all," </p>
<p>"I'll go with my friends,"</p>
<p>"I do not trust your friends," </p>
<p>Helene arched a brow, but gave no retort; she knew as well as Marya did that there was no way she could try and give an argument with conviction. The thought she didn't attempt felt oddly reassuring; at least Helene, for insane as she was at times, still had her wits about her. "Fine. What time does your game end?" Helene gave a reluctant, almost sympathetic huff, "I can try and delay it for like half an hour, but that's all I'm going to be able to pull off," </p>
<p>"Not any sooner?"</p>
<p>"Parents would get home before he could leave," Helene explained with a sigh.</p>
<p>"Helene, you live on the opposite side of town," </p>
<p>"Hm, I didn't realize that," Helene remarked back, though her expression remained flat and unimpressed. </p>
<p>"I can't just go and drive all the way there then make it to the resta-" She paused, stopping herself because for the first time in quite a while, the judgment on Helene's face was visible, and Marya wasn't sure why. </p>
<p>"I thought it was obvious we'd go after your game?" </p>
<p>That threw Marya off. She'd seen Helene as several different things, and accommodating was not one of them. Then again, Marya would have to dig all the way back to the first day they met to find one where Helene didn't surprise her. Though in a capacity, she didn't know why this shocked her anymore. "I mean, that sounds...good," She gave a small nod, unsure what else she could really do with herself in the moment, so took a glance towards the clock. "I'll try to be quick after the game but if you let me know when you're here I can quickly let you into the building so you don't freeze to death I'm-"</p>
<p>Helene touched her arm gently to interrupt her, "How very sweet, but I was just going to watch the game,"  </p>
<p>"O-oh,"</p>
<p>The brunette clearly did not take to the reaction as one of surprise, because she laughed nervously, putting both her hands up in surrender. "Unless you don't want me to, then I can-"</p>
<p>"No," Marya surprised herself with how quickly she cut Helene off. "No, that-that's...great. That would be great," She amended just as fast, watching something flicker in Helene's eyes before offering a perfect smile. </p>
<p>"Yeah, we can-" Helene's words, ones that were softer than Marya had heard her before, were cut off by the bell. Helene waited for it to end, glancing down to her shoes and shifting her weight back and forth as she got to her feet. "See you at the game, then off for pizza we go?" </p>
<p>"Yes. That sounds like a plan," She didn't know why her face felt so hot, and prayed Helene didn't notice it. "I'll bring the sweatshirt?"</p>
<p>"The same one as last time?" Marya gave her a small head tilt, but there was an amused smile on her lips. Helene didn't think she'd ever seen her look like that before, "It was comfy," She pointed out after a moment. "Pleaseee?" Marya gave a nod, finding an odd sense of warmth blooming in her chest as the brunette smiled again, scrunching her nose slightly. "So good to me, Marya," She sing-songed, and the redhead watched as she turned on her heels to grab her forgotten laptop and essay rubric. </p>
<p>"Thanks, by the way," Helene's hand froze. She'd never looked at Marya faster. </p>
<p>"What?" </p>
<p>"I said thank you," Helene let her facade fall for a split second-not even long enough for Marya to blink-but she saw the way her lip went between her teeth. </p>
<p>"Oh, yeah, you're welcome," She recovered quickly. Too quickly, to Marya's humored and horrified dismay, "I get to see that ass in volleyball shorts; pleasure is all mine," Once again, Helene left her standing alone to the sound of melodious laughter. </p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Set</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The volleyball game. Marya gets a very small glimpse into Helene's daily process.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I would like to thank my friend Laney for her knowledge in the American school system, as I have a lot of determination to make Fedya a football player lololol. Here marks the beginning of Jock Marya<br/>I didn't want to go too much into detail of the game because as someone who plays volleyball, I would probably write it in a less comprehensive way hahaha. Also, I like to keep my chapters short, so instead have Helene checking Marya out, I guess.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Helene had never liked sports. She had the bare minimum grasp on football just so she could cheer during it and look better talking to the football jocks of the school. It was the bare essentials: what a touchdown was, point numbers, the like. But she had never been interested in it. Never interested in the chatter of the rest of the cheerleading squad as they pointed out the jersey numbers fo the most attractive players. The closest to interested in it she was ended up being trying not to giggle when they would say Fedya's name, or when he did whatever the hell it was his position did well and he'd smile over to the stands and she'd give him a thumbs up or blow a kiss. And he always laughed, too, because he knew damn well Helene understood absolute none of it, nor did she enjoy it. </p><p>Helene did not enjoy watching volleyball, she found out, but she did enjoy watching <em>Marya </em>play volleyball. </p><p>There was something intriguing about watching Marya focus on something aside from classes. It was more interesting than the score to watch Marya's sapphire eyes laser in on the ball, following it with intent focus, or to hear her barking commands and orders to her teammates. Helene didn't expect to find herself almost smirking every time the redhead yelled, or clenched her jaw in frustration. There was something in the sharpness of the growled Russian that made her lean forward. Helene had never watched a sport in her life, this one included, but she figured out easily enough how the game was going based on how Marya moved. Helene, for all her reputation was worth, was quite an observant person. Yet even then, she watched when Marya would pick at her sleeves when she was started to get into the zone, or that she would hike her shorts up before serving. She noticed the way Marya shifted her feet, how her hands moved, how she touched teammates based on if they were moving where she wanted them to. </p><p>Helene was notably shorter than Marya; not enough for it to look ridiculous but enough that seeing Marya from a far shocked her for a moment; had it not been for the fiery red hair, Helene had no clue how long it wouldn've taken to pick Marya out. She had never seen Marya with skin showing before. She would never let Marya live it down-to be dressed in shorts that dared to defy school dress code and an outfit that tight. Helene was not complaining in the slightest. Her eyes lingered where they certainly should not have, and Helene decided she quite liked volleyball. She liked the way Marya's triceps flexed when she moved to bump the ball, or the way her shoulders moved as she bounced the ball off the wall several times before serving, and how her back muscles rippled through the tight fabric. And good lord, her legs-</p><p>The alarm made Helene jump a good foot in the air, and she could see the amusement in Marya's eyes; the redheaded woman was able to find her instantaneously amidst the crowd. High fives and celebratory high fives went missed because there was something foreign and almost stunned in Helene's stare, and the cheerleader's face was almost as red as her own after playing an entire game. "Who are you looking at?" Marya was far more preoccupied with trying to figure out if something was wrong then the person talking to her. All Marya did was give a small gesture with her head towards the girl still staring at her. And only then did Helene turn her head away, gathering her things and glancing towards the scoreboard. It was a simple smile as Helene turned to talk to someone next to her. Marya did, however, notice Helene take her phone it, tapping it with her pointer finger nonchalantly as she spoke. "Helene?" Marya's teammate sounded suprised and made a noise that indicated the same as their captain nodded. </p><p>Marya shook hands with opponents and finally began her warmer congratulations to other team members, offering short bits of praise and feedback. Though for once in Marya's life, she broke routine in the form of a promise to the team that her and their coach would have game notes post practice the following day. She was a person who enjoyed the immediate commentary on performance, but this was the first time ever she requested to leave quickly. Natasha was more important, and it simply felt rude to make Helene wait. "Great game, girls!" Marya shouted over the lockeroon commotion of music blasting through the speakers and laughter, pushing out the door. </p><p>She found Helene leaning against the school building, smiling politely at a boy Marya didn't immediately recognize. Sometimes Marya forgot that a moment never went by that Helene was not with another person aside from those moments they walked together or during study hall. The fact the maniac Helene who tripped over picnic blankets and knew way too much about flowers was able to pull herself together with such poise never failed to confuse her. "Hey, Helene," Marya cleared her throat awkwardly, touching the girl on her lower back to try and get her attention. </p><p>"Oh, Marya," Helene said a little too quickly, turning her head to smile. "I just need to put my stuff in the car, then we can-" </p><p>"We were talking," The man cut in, a brow raised. Blue eyes flickered between the smaller girl and the guy who had been rude enough to interrupt her. Her eyes narrowed slowly and it seemed as if only then did it actually click who he was trying to disrupt the plans of. People didn't simply <em>challenge </em>Marya Dmitrievna. </p><p>"Were you?" Marya took a small step forward. To watch the man shrink away caused a small amount of satisfaction in Marya's chest. "The conversation seems to have stopped," </p><p>"Um..." </p><p>"I need to get my books," Before Marya could question Helene's interjection, the brunette furthered the story, "Though I don't see why we can't ditch? Our teacher won't know if I don't study <em>after hours</em>, then I can go home, and you can go home, and-" </p><p>"You could-" Marya didn't let the guy finish. </p><p>"Absolutely not, Kuragin," </p><p>"Oh come on-" </p><p>"Your notes. Go," Marya gestured vaguely towards the parking lot and Helene let out an exaggerated groan. "Come on," </p><p>"<em>Fine." </em>Helene huffed, yet did not take more than a few seconds to grab Marya by the wrist and dragging her along swiftly, calling out a quick "Bye Nathan!" as she continued walking. There was only about five seconds of silence-waiting until they were out of the guy's earshot- before Marya was about to make a comment, though Helene beat her to it. "Perve," She muttered under her breath, taking a turn Marya didn't expect. Helene looked completely unbothered when talking to him.</p><p>"What was he saying?"</p><p>"Ugh," Helene rolled her eyes, "Boy stuff," It was dismissive and spoken somewhat coldly, so Marya didn't press on that matter. She did, however, have other questions. </p><p>"Why did you say we were studying?" </p><p>"Because knowing you, I figured the idea of being known to be near me voluntarily would make you ill, and I don't want you throwing up on my shoes," Helene answered easily, trying to act as if her answer wasn't harsh enough to make them both grimace slightly. "These shoes are new, is all," Helene added quietly, shoving her hands in her packets. </p><p>The lack of a response was due to Marya's quiet contemplation. Did Helene really think Marya hated her <em>that </em>much? Did she act like she hated Helene that much? Did she used to hate Helene that much? Whenever Helene was honest, it shook Marya in a way that always seemed to come up unexpectedly. It was weird to think sometimes that Helene did have actual feelings, regardless of how often she expressed them. The fact she spoke of these guys so plainly, and this observation in the same way left Marya fumbling for a response. </p><p>"This isn't really voluntary, either," Marya hissed slightly under her breath at the first thing that came out of her mouth; if the comment made any bruise to Helene's morale it didn't show. </p><p>"Ah, well, it sure looks worse to your admirable reputation than studying," Marya couldn't really fight it, because the girl had a point, and Marya wished she didn't. Marya wished for a brief moment she could actually speak to Helene in public without risk of a heart attack. Rumors followed Helene everywhere she went, and 'school slut' labels did not mesh well with potential athletic and academic scholarships. She hated that Helene knew that. She wished Helene as much sense of the world as Marya thought she did at the start. "But hey, we all have images to uphold, I get it," Helene abruptly waved it off; she had never been one for silence, after all. "So anyway," Her voice immediately picked up a less...<em>school-esque </em>tone, "I just gotta drop stuff of, because if your boyfriend comes in with a brand name purse, Natasha will have <em>questions,</em>"</p><p>Marya scoffed, chuckling a bit to herself. "You really have this thought through, huh?"</p><p>"Of course I do," Helene responded with confidence, "When have I ever not thought through something?"</p><p>"Every single time you don't do an assignment, probably," Helene laughed at that, and a small amount of pep began to enter her strides as her car neared. </p><p>"Something interesting, I meant," Helene remarked back lightly, all but skipping towards the backseat door and ripping it open, "Get the duffel bag for me, please?" She called out, flicking her finger towards the open door before moving to the driver's side.</p><p>Marya had learned through enough Helene interactions some questions were best left unasked, the answers a fun surprise. She did as Helene asked quietly, and was for a brief moment shocked at how spotless the interior of the thing was. It looked as if no one had ever even been in before, for god's sake. The single things in the backseat was the aforementioned duffel bag and a bottle of vodka. Now that she allowed herself to question. Because from what she knew of Helene, if she had any, it was in her school bag. "Why do you have vodka?" She picked up the bottle, surveying it again, "Unopened vodka?"</p><p>Helene gave a sheepish smile, looking up at her from filtering through her backpack that she placed on the seat, "In case you lost," </p><p>Marya couldn't decide whether to laugh, be concerned, or chide her. She settled on a small amused scoff, leading the way back to her car. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, feedback is appreciated! I love your guys' comments!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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